


Fredrica's All-Night Pizza and Burlesque Saloon

by SnaxAttacks



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Chaptered, Gen, Italian Mafia, Rule 63, Sexy Times, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-14
Updated: 2014-12-27
Packaged: 2018-02-25 09:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2617646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnaxAttacks/pseuds/SnaxAttacks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are Mike Schmidt, a guy down on his luck and in need of money quick. The ad in the paper said an adult club on the bad side of town was looking for night security, but you had no idea what exactly you were in store for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You had to admit, falling into a job like this one was probably the last thing you would have imagined doing. In fact, after graduation, your mind had buzzed with all sorts of fabulous fantasies about careers that brought money and respect. This was neither of those. You were now security at an all night pizza place and robot strip club.

The call for the job couldn’t have come at a better time. The rent was late because of having to pay for a car repair, and the landlord wasn’t going to tolerate your usual excuses for much longer. And while you knew the vague outlines that the job entailed, it was still mostly a mystery, but, one that paid money, so it was good by you.

11:30 pm, you pulled your car up to the dingy building. It was located in an equally dingy part of the downtown. In this environment, you were lucky you were a big, rough looking guy. That’s probably what won the interview for you alone. As you walked into the doorway, you could hear music, and what sounded like live singing. You were stopped short of seeing the performance by a squat little man in an unkempt suit. “You the new guard?” he asked tiredly. You nodded and he gave a grin. “Good, I was startin to think I was gonna be stuck doin the nightshift by myself forever. Follow me, kid,” He waved a hand and motioned you down a dark little hallway. “I’m guessin they didn’t tell ya too much about the job? They never do. I’m feelin generous, so lemme show ya what your work’s gonna entail.”

The halls in the place were like a maze, but your guide was apparently an expert when it came to navigating them. Eventually he got you to a black door. A rusted sign stating ‘SECURITY’ was mounted on it, slightly askew. He pulled a ring of keys from the pocket of his baggy tuxedo slacks and shoved a key into the lock. The inside was a bit of a surprise. The entire front wall appeared to be a massive window, viewing the curtained stage and surrounding dining room. A large, heavily used looking desk sat behind the window, covered in clutter and a few dusty monitors, showing security footage of the places your window didn’t reach. “That’s a one way mirror. Don’t worry, unless your turn the lights up in here, no one will ever know you’re back here.” The little man’s induction was cut off by a sudden swell of music. “Oh hey, right on cue,” his crooked smile and beady little eyes locked onto the stage. You couldn’t help but watch as well.

When you were offhandedly told there were robots involved with this position during the interview, for some reason you had never envisioned animal robots. Perhaps that meant your head was on right, at least in this instance. But there it was, an animatronic chicken in a crystal encrusted gown, singing about some long lost lover or something. As you watched, she clamped the end of one of her arm length gloves in her beak and started to pull it off in rhythmic little jerks, shaking her hips in time with the music. She tossed it aside, then did the same with the other, resuming her singing once her mouth was no longer full. With a quick reach behind her back, the gown itself was released to the floor, underneath, a smaller skirt and and equally sparkly bustier, restraining her rather generous chicken breasts. A few more moves and the skirt was off, leaving her in black lace panties and thigh high stockings. The tune of the song went from being about love lost, to self empowerment, and with that, she ripped off the bustier, showing off and proudly spinning the glitter covered tassels affixed to her. While if this had been described to you without the visuals, you might have either laughed or been repulsed, your boner was not complaining in the least over the morals of finding a robotic bird attractive. There was something about her strangely fluid movements that made your body not care. With a little bow and a last spin, the curtains closed, and the few patrons, who had be hollering during the show, resumed chewing their pizza.

Your jaw was on the floor. The man beside you laughed and slapped a hand on your back. “That Chica’s really somethin, isn’t she?” You nodded slowly, processing your feelings about all that had happened in the last 5 minutes. “I got a good feelin about you, kid. I think you’re gonna like it here.”

\---

You finally pried your eyes from the window to look at the doorman, still not believing that this place was real. He thought for a split second, then put his hand out, “Oh yeah, I forgot all about introductions! I’m Gary.” You shake his hand, using it as a distraction for your already sore brain and slowly loosening pants.

“I’m Mike,” You responded, “So uh… How did this place even… happen?”

Gary laughs a little, “Well, to give you the short version of the story, the owner’s a real eccentric type, pretty loaded with money too. See, you remember those pizza chains for kids with the robot band and stuff? Well, he went to one as a kid and kinda got obsessed. He learned everything, got a few slick degrees in robotics and such, then when he heard this one chain of pizza places was goin chapter 11, he bought up as much stuff from the auctions as physically possible. Of course, as he got older, his obsession got a taste for more adult flavors, and well, this place started. I’ve been here since opening day, and I’ll probably be around til I croak,” He seemed rather proud of that last part.

“Oh,” You said, not really knowing what else to say to that. You had to admit, the idea was pretty novel, despite how strange it was. And well, even late on a Monday night, there were still people drinking and eating and enjoying the show. Gary looked at his watch, then back to you.

“So, the next performance is in 15 minutes. You wanna meet the girls? They always love seein new faces around here, especially a nice strong one like yours.” Your legs pulled you out of your seat even before you could respond verbally. The small man just gave a signature chuckle and waddled to the door.

You and Gary went back into the hall and made a beeline to the backstage area. Despite how dark it was, the little man remained light on his feet, whereas you nearly tripped several times. Finally, the corridor gave way to a much better lit, huge room. Judging by the curtains making one of the walls, this was the destination. It seemed empty, until you spotted something, or someone, purple, peeking from behind a set piece curiously. As soon as you met eyes, the figure reeled back into hiding. Your tour guide casually strolled over and poked his head around the set and spoke reassuringly to the one trying to hide.

“Don’t worry, he’s with me. His name’s Mike, introduce yourself,” He half-spoke half-whispered.

Gary stepped back, and the robot stepped out. She was a bunny, and a very cute looking one at that. Her large pink eyes looked timid and were glowing softly. She was in a cutsy, filly dress that hid a lot of her features, certainly a different flavor than you’d seen the chicken in. She stood by the doorman, facing you, but with her eyes to her feet. “H-hi,” she mumbled, giving a tiny wave. Impatient, the man continued for her.

“This here’s Bonnie. She’s the newest addition to the family. The owner got her from a little town in Iowa. She was in pretty bad order, but he fixed her right up and made her better than ever, ain’t that right?” he nudged her a little and Bonnie nodded. “She’s still getting used to her programming, so for now she’s just the stage kitten. Once she’s a little more confident, I know she’s gonna be a fantastic performer.”

“Stage kitten?” you ask, since that is obviously a rabbit.

“It’s business lingo she-”

“I-i I pick up the clothes off the stage,” She finished. The little man looked surprised at her cutting him off, but not at all displeased. “Oh I, sorry Gary…” She apologized, despite him looking the total opposite of hurt.

“No no, it’s fine,” He soothed to the rabbit, then looked back to you, “Don’t worry Mike, once she warms up to you, you two are gonna be thick as thieves.” You decided to keep a respective distance from the adorable machine for now. He took a look at his watch again and parted from the figure. “We’ve got more girls to meet and little time to do it in, c’mon kid.”

“Nice to meet you,” You say as Gary zips past, pulling you along to the next location. Bonnie buried her face in her paw hands and scurried off.

“I think she likes ya,” The stout man said with his crooked grin.

\---

After a bit of dragging, Gary stopped at a door, labeled in a similar fashion to the security room, its rusted sign saying, “DRESSING ROOM”. Gingerly, your co-worker knocked on the door. You supposed, even though they were robots, they were still sapient and, on top of that, ladies, so it was only polite to not walk in on them. A voice from within yelled, “Whatta ya want?!” Gary cleared his throat and spoke at the doorframe.

“It’s just me, and the new guard I’d like ya to meet, may we come in?”

There was a pause, then, “It depends, are they okay with seein a beautiful nude woman?” there was a strange emphasis on the latter half of the phrase. You shook your head no in the idea of allowing a girl some privacy, but Gary just plowed open the door without a second thought. Before you could protest, you laid eyes on the contents of the room. Lit mirrors and vanities lined the walls, as well as racks of costumes. At one of the stations was the chicken herself. She was indeed nude, save for the tassels and such she had on from her previous act. In a strange way you were sadly disappointed that she wasn’t actually nude. You quickly swatted that idea out of your head.

It was at that moment you realized what she was up to. Chica was calmly painting her nails, which would have been understandable save for the fact she had pulled the outer layer of her hand off and was painting the nails meticulously with her freed metallic robot hand. She gave a snicker at your expression. “I know there’s plentya ladies who wish they could do this.” After blowing on the last nail, she set the bottle of polish aside, then slipped the hand back on like a glove. She waggled her fingers experimentally, then turned her attention fully to you. “I’m Chica, the biggest headliner in the building, other than Mama of course. So, you’re the fresh meat around here, eh?” She looked you over for a second, taking in your shape with a smile on her beak. “They’ve really upgraded, the last guard was a scrawny little shit compared to you.” She stood up and came over to you, getting real close. Obviously, personal space was not a thing programmed into her. She brought up a hand and squeezed at one of your biceps, making a pleased hum at the feeling of your muscles. “The owner did good on this one. With a little luck we won’t have a repeat of what happened to the last guy.”

Reflexively you asked, “What happened to the last guy…?” Out of the corner of your eye you see Gary make some quick motions for Chica to stop, but she only smiles wider.

She thought for a moment, possibly rewording her thoughts, then dropped her smile into a far more dour expression, “Let’s just say if someone messes with onea Mama Bear’s girls, you’re gonna have to answer to Mama. And THAT is a phone call ya don’t wanna pick up. Got the drift?” You nod, shuffling as such to distance yourself at least a little from the robot. She kept on the serious face for a couple of seconds while you squirmed, then busted up laughing, throwing her arm around you. “I like ya, what’s yer name?”

You pushed out a “Mike,” as her arm squeezed you. Why did they even need security? These robots were goddamn strong as hell.

“Mike! I like that name, way better than the last guy! What was his name? Randolfo or something? Too highbrow for a place like this I’ll tell ya, He came in a goddamn tux every night.” She shot a glance at Gary, “No offense to ya Gary, but I mean, the guy wore new, actually fitting tuxedos. Who even does that? We’re a pizza place for god’s sakes.” The mouthy chicken finally released you, and you felt some air return to your lungs.

Gary cleared his throat again. “So Chica, where’s the other girls at? I want to make sure Mike here meets em all.” the animatronic rolled her eyes.

“Well, Mama’s in her dressing room since she’s goin on soon, Bonnie’s lurkin around like usual somewhere, and fuck if I know where the bitch is right now.” She walked back to the mirror and plopped down, pulling out a brush and touching up her eye shadow. “Sorry I’m not exactly an encyclopedia of dipshit locations right now.”

Gary hung by the door and motioned at you to follow along. “Well thanks anyways Chica, yer particular charms are always appreciated,” He said playfully. The robot continued her preening as you moved to leave, smiling at you via the mirror.

“Well, welcome aboard Mike. And Gary I swear if you see that fuckin fox punch ‘er in the tits for me I think she took my goddamn eyelash curler again.”

You quickly shuffled out of the room, closing the door behind you.

\---

After a few steps from the door, you look over at Gary. “So… who’s the bitch..?” you ask in a hushed voice. Before he could answer, something stirred on the catwalks above. Quicker than you could comprehend, something was headed down towards you. A pulley whined to a stop as the figure descended and made contact with the stage floor. The robot stepped from the makeshift conveyance, which appeared to be a sort of sling made out of rope and expertly tied knots.

“My ears started burning, were you talking about me?” She said. Her voice was deep, but soft and monotonous. An eyepatch rested on her head, and on her right arm was a rather threatening looking hook instead of a hand. You found this all very interesting. With all the costumes and such, it was a little strange that one of them would be so deliberately themed. You would have asked, but that would have been rude you imagined.

“Uh, she was,” You say, motioning at the door to the dressing room.

“Hn,” is the only sound she made in regard to that. You figured this was typical behavior from the two. She instead turned to Gary. Reaching into the pocket of her torn up shorts, she retrieved a neatly folded stack of papers. “This is for Mama, regarding my new act.” She spoke with some kind of accent that you couldn’t put your finger on. It wasn’t cliche pirate, but it was sorta piratey you guessed.

Gary gestured at you, “Foxy, please meet Mike, he’s the new security guard,” she whipped her head around unnaturally, remaining silent while she fully assigned you to memory. The rest of her body soon followed, and she extended her hook toward you very suddenly, making you flinch a little. You realized slowly that she wanted you to shake it.

You took a hold of her hook and shook. In a split second, the world was flopping over, and in very short order your back smacked into the hardwood of the floor and Foxy’s very sharp hook was at your throat. She looked unimpressed as you gave a pained whine, her foot, which was perched weightily on your sternum, pressed down a little more. “Mike, you are not very fast on your feet for a protector.” she stated flatly.

Gary interrupted, “Ah, well, ya see it’s his first night, Foxy. I’m trainin him don’t worry about it.” She let her foot off of you and pulled back her hook, allowing the little man to help you to your feet.

She frowned, “With your training expertise, I only have abject fear for the state of security here.” With that she jumped up and caught another hanging rope, quickly scurrying up the rigging and back into the dark depths of the fly gallery.

“AND CHICA WANTS HER EYELASH CURLER BACK,” Gary shouted toward the ceiling. Seconds later, the aforementioned device came plummeting down, and broke into pieces upon impacting with the floor. He shook his head. “Sorry about that kid. Foxy, she’s been through a lot. I don’t know the whole story but she came from a real gruesome situation. Apparently re-progammin her was a nightmare, and even then not all of the original stuff got wiped. She’s got her quirks, but she’s actually very sweet once she trusts you. Maybe she’ll even let ya see her Pirate Cove if she likes you enough,” He gave a wink and a nudge, but you still remained uncertain if that was an innuendo or not.

With a quick peek at his watch, the short man pulled you along once more, “I think we have just enough time to meet Fredrica herself before her act starts,” You glanced once more up into the darkness before following along, a single golden eye glowing in the inky black.

\---

You and your supervisor traveled deeper into the backstage area. The darkness crept in and really did a number on your perception of space. “Fredrica likes the dark,” You heard your guide say, probably in response to your aura of confusion as you stumbled along behind him. After crashing into a few sets and falling on your face over things, the faint outline of a door became visible to your night-adjusted eyesight.

“Oh,” Gary said, then with a click, a beam of light penetrated the black you two were enveloped in. “I forgot, this is for you, It’s for lightin and clobberin people.” He handed over the hefty metal flashlight. He wasn’t kidding about the thing being a useful weapon. It probably weighed a good 7 pounds. With the new found ability to see, getting to the door was a snap. The room was unlabeled, save for a flaking painted star on the door, probably an original to the old theatre.

Before he could knock, a soothing, calm voice came from within. “Gary, please come in. I would like to meet my newest family member.” You were slightly shaken, but it wasn’t the strangest thing to happen so far. Gary twisted the elegant old knob on the door and slowly proceeded inside, warm light spilling out. While much of the building, both front and back of the house, quite obviously showed its age, this room was totally different. While everything inside was certainly antique, it was spotless, classy, and over all elegant. Framed pictures of famous burlesque, cabaret, and vaudevillian actors covered the walls in between the mirrors. You couldn’t name any of them if you wanted, but you supposed they were important.

Seated on a white chaise lounge in the middle of the room was Fredrica Fazbear, draped in a white fur coat, awaiting her cue to go on stage. Next to her, on a carved wood table, was a bank of security monitors, not at all dissimilar to the ones in the office, except they were far more numerous and far more modern. Her half-lidded gaze fell on you. “Michael Schmidt, please take a seat, the owner told me all about you.”

You nodded and sat down on another piece of her furniture set. She looked to the other man in the room, “Gary darling, may I please have a moment with Mr. Schmidt?” The little roach-like man scuttled out of the door, slowly closing it behind him. Once the lock clicked back into place, she smiled. “My act begins soon, but please, do tell me a little bit about yourself.”

And so you did. You told her a quick summary of your life at the moment, between ties breaking with friends and family and your terrible landlord, and she nodded and reacted as any normal person would, saying things like, “Oh you poor dear,” and “Oh heavens you deserve much better than that,” You weren’t sure why, but of all the performers you had met so far, she just seemed very… warm, genuine, mothering... comfortable.

After you finished, she stood up. “From now on Michael, things will be very different for you. You’re under the Fazbear wing now, and above pleasing customers, family is the most important thing we offer and uphold.” You stood to leave and she gave you a warm hug. Oddly, it didn’t feel strange to hug her back as it did with most people.

“Thank you, uh Ms. Fazbear,” you said in a casual but still polite sort of way.

She smiled at you, like when parent smiles at their child doing something wrong but adorably so, “No Michael, please, call me Mama,” She wrapped up the hug and with that she left the room.

You weren’t sure, but part of you was almost certain you had just joined a burlesque pizza robot mafia. Gary came back in shortly. “So, what’d she say?” he asked with an odd amount of eagerness in his voice.

“She said I’m part of the Fazbear family.” The pudgy man looked beyond pleased.

“Good good, now, If you’ll follow me, there’s still some paperwork you need to fill out,” He gave you a slap on the back, “Welcome to the family, kid.”


	2. Chapter 2

Filling out the paperwork with Gary took far longer than you had anticipated. You weren’t too sure about the usual employment procedures in the food/showbiz/adult entertainment business, but damn was there a lot of contract signing. You skimmed them all of course and nothing seemed too suspicious. You’re not exactly an expert in legalize, but nothing seemed like it was going to make you required to whack people or something. They were probably no where near as harmful as all the credit card contracts you had signed, then tried to escape.

After finishing up the last document and another handshake, the doorman and you parted your ways, him returning to the front, and you retiring to your new base of operations. With a smile, you pulled out your new copy of the key and unlocked the door. The room wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t claustrophobically small either. You took a seat on the surprisingly comfortable chair and looked over all the monitors. Your inkling back in Mama’s room had been right; she had about a third more cameras on her feed than you. With how Chica had regarded her, perhaps she was the real security around here.

You were a little disappointed the contracts took so long, since it made you miss Mama’s act, but you figured, being open all night, she would more than likely do an encore performance. As the hour ticked along, every 15 or 20 minutes, another girl would come on stage and do an act.

The first one you got to watch was Foxy. She wasn’t in her usual pirate attire, but instead it was something more like a leotard and tights, again coated in a fine dusting of jewels and glitter. Her hook was no longer a hook, but instead a hand. She probably could pop it off and exchange them you figured. On stage were various kinds of gymnastics equipment, as well as ropes hanging from the ceiling. Remaining posed and expressionless and silent, the classical music started and she hopped onto the bars, spinning and holding herself up, and flipping onto another set piece after another. You had seen something like this in the olympics, but to see a robot do it was just unreal. In the process, her outfit was coming off, bit by bit, and falling to the stage below. She hung from a bar with one hand, then tore off the remaining costume with the other, leaving her in a thong and black pasties. She posed and twisted along the bars, giving some spectacular highflying views of her lithe, robotic form. She jumped from the highest bar, landing stiff on her feet center stage, her back to the audience. She bent over as far as she could and the patrons at their tables went nuts cheering. She straightened back up and turned, giving a curt bow before the curtains closed. You remained seated, but were indeed giving her a silent standing ovation.

Chica came on next, dressed in another clingy gown. This one hid even less than the last. She took her microphone and sung a sultry song about ways to please a woman. The entire thing dripped with innuendo and terrible dirty puns. She got down on the stage at one point, sitting at the edge and directly singing to a lonely looking fellow with a slice of Hawaiian pizza on his plate, as well as 5 or so empty highball cocktail glasses. He grinned like an idiot while she drew a hand up his chest and to the tip of his chin. He nearly looked like he was going to faint. Her eyes shot from him, to directly at your window. While the customers were none the wiser about the one way mirror, Chica knew. Her lusty expression felt like it was penetrating your soul. She got back up and slipped out of the gown, a shimmering belt of beaded fringe barely covering the expanse of her g-string clad behind. As she shook, the beads shivered and you were pretty sure you did too. She cupped her chest with an arm as she removed her bra and finished her song, apparently going without pasties, or giving the illusion of such, until she left the stage. With another wink in your direction, she was back in the wings. Before the curtain fell, you saw Bonnie scurry out and collect the chicken’s dress. She paused when she realized the audience could see her, then the fabric cut her off from your view. You glanced down at your tight, straining pants. How were you going to be able to stand this job if this kept happening every 20 minutes?

A few minutes after Chica’s act while taking a moment to kick back, you were startled by a sudden alarm going off on some of the equipment on your desk. Frantic, you scanned the monitors, then found the culprit. A figure in a black trenchcoat and brimmed hat was getting in the backstage through a firedoor! You shot out of your chair and grabbed your maglight. You had never clobbered anyone, but the blood pumping in your system made the idea of it pretty cool. And maybe defending the place from a real life crook would convince Foxy that you had more security prowess than she believed. Without missing a beat, you rushed out of your office and down the hall, ready to work for your job.

\---

You hadn’t sprinted like this in a long, long time. You were actually grinning to yourself. You never really questioned why in the world someone was breaking into the backstage of a burlesque pizza parlor, but then again, crime was a senseless act much of the time. Plus, you had to prove you had the stuff to work this job.

While it was probably excessive force, as soon as you laid eyes on the intruder, you rushed and tackled him to the floor like a linebacker. You pulled out your light and shined it on his face. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING BACK HERE?” you asked in your gruffest voice.

The middle aged man, looking terrified, sputtered out, “I-i h-have an appointment! A private pizza party!” He squinted his eyes to avoid the bright beam from your flashlight. You paused. You recognized this man. It took you a moment to fish his face out of your memory, but when it hit you it hit you hard.

“Mayor Nowser…?” you breathed. The man under you flailed at your identification. You got off of him and he scrambled to his feet. He quickly fished into a pocket of his coat and tossed two crisp $100 bills at you.

“You didn’t see me.” He said, dusting his coat off and heading toward the dressing rooms quickly. You sheepishly grabbed the money and got to your feet. You looked the cash over. It was real alright. Before you could ask anything else of him, he had disappeared from you line of sight. You were about to continue after him, when you felt something cold and metal on your shoulder.

“He always forgets the alarm code for that door,” The tall vixen-bot stated behind you, tapping her hook next to your neck. You turned to face her, shoving the cash in your pocket. She regards the action, but says nothing of it.

“You guys do private parties…?” You asked.

She put her weaponized limb back at her side. She was in her default pirate costume again, eye patch and all. You thought it was silly to change out of an outfit then back into one every hour. If you were a performer you’d probably do like Chica and hang out mostly nude most of the time. But that was her decision, and you weren’t going to judge it. Foxy responded to your question, “We do them all the time. However, the Mayor is a regular. What he calls a ‘pizza party’ is something else entirely.” She waves at you to follow her as she moves ahead and leads you along.

She suddenly grabs you, luckily with her hand and not her hook, and jumps, snagging her prosthetic on a loop of rope. Some kind of mechanical hum kicks in along the ceiling, and the rope begins to ascend higher. You freak out and squeal like a baby. All she offers to you is a monotoned “Shh.” The rope pulls the both of you up to a catwalk, its path branching and offering an overview of the entire backstage area. She dumps you onto the metal bridge and you clamor back into a standing position, holding tightly to a handrail. Fuck, you forgot you’re afraid of heights. She moves along the catwalk and once more motions you to follow.

Quietly, you make your way along, above the darkened backstage. Foxy suddenly stops and points her hook down. You look in that direction to see you’re directly above the main dressing room. There’s no ceiling, so everything going on within is visible, sort of like a game of The Sims. You squat down, bracing a rail, to get a better look.

The Mayor is seated on a beaten up couch in the corner of the room, and on his lap is Chica, in one of her lavish outfits, laughing softly at something the politician said to her. She’s got her arms around him and after whispering something to him, she kisses his cheek. The man kisses her back and cops a feel of her rather pronounced bosom. She playfully swats his hand and calls him naughty, you think you hear, insisting ‘ladies first’. She gets her hands on his belt, and you’re pretty sure you’ve seen enough. You glance up at Foxy, and she looks equally done with the scene going on below. Before you get an eyeful of the Mayor’s cock, the animatronic beside you takes you back to her makeshift elevator.

Once you’re on the floor and out of earshot, you have all sorts of questions. “Are they…? Do they…??” You stammer.

“Yes. Weekly at least.”

“And he pays for it…?”

“In bribes to the owner as to not release the footage, yes.”

“Do all of you...?”

“No, just Chica. She enjoys it, and it makes the owner money, so Mama has no reason to tell her no.”

You stay silent for a moment, and Foxy starts to walk away. You’re tempted to stop her, but your mind can’t possibly think of anything to ask, at least not anything you deemed fit to ask a lady you just met, regardless of occupation, and being a furry robot.

“I will remind him to use the code when he leaves,” she says as she makes her exit, “He won’t forget.” She pauses and cranes her head back unnaturally to give you a solid stare. “By the way, your tackle could use some work. You need to use your shoulders more.”

You nod, then drag yourself back to your office. At least you didn’t see the Mayor dicking a robot chicken today, but you probably wouldn’t be so lucky in the future.

\---

 

In the next few hours, you were lucky to finally catch Mama herself doing her act or three. They were all very much classical sorts of affairs, a fact that was apparent to even you with your highly limited knowledge of the art of burlesque. In her first entrance onto the stage, the curtain opened, and in her hands were two huge, white feathered fans. As she danced, she always remained decent via them, fanning them about and teasing as she stripped. Her level of professionalism was quite apparent. Somehow, no matter how provocative it got, there was always a certain air of class about her. The feelings you felt stir up in you from her acts were your most shameful ones of the night. Then there was the bubble popping act, which just about threw your brain into a fit. You needed to get up and walk around, and maybe dunk your head in a sink of cold water. You got up and grabbed your trusty flashlight. You hadn’t done a walk around security check yet, so now was as good of a time as any.

You walked backstage, strolling along and getting some blood back into your legs. You poked your head into a storeroom for a moment, then paused. You could have sworn you heard soft singing. Curious, you decided to investigate. You creep in slowly as to not make a sound with your bootfalls. The room was filled with surplus props and costumes and sets, some of them looking pretty ancient.

As you got deeper, the singing was a little louder. Around a corner, you saw a little light on, like a single bulb. You snuck a quick peek. In the middle of the room was Bonnie. She appeared to be wearing one of Chica’s gaudy outfits. It was quite a bit loose fitting in the chest region, the fabric drooped and showing more than a little of her small, but perky cleavage. Just the opposite was the case for her hips, their width pulling the fabric rather taught, just a step below it staining on the seams. She had a spare, unplugged microphone, and was singing one of the songs you had heard earlier from the owner of that dress. You had to admit, while Chica had a nice voice, Bonnie’s was just… gorgeous. You get lost in her little act as she inches the shoulders of the dress off. With barely a bust to catch it, the top half of the entire dress falls down, gathering at her waist. You had wondered if the robots here had nipples, and now you had your answer. The answer was yes. Embarrassed by the behavior of her wardrobe, she quickly snatched the top hem and pulled it back up.

You were about to leave when your clumsy foot knocked over a large metal bucket on the floor, prompting the rabbit to squeak in surprise and hide. You decided it was time to come clean. You step out of the shadows. “It’s okay, it’s just me.” You say in her direction. You see an ear and a large pink eye peek out from her hiding spot.

Very softly she mumbles, “M-mike?” You nod and she steps out. Both hands are clinging to her dress top still, tighter than ever. She doesn’t meet your eyes. “D-dont… Don’t tell Chica… I-i’ll put it back right now..”

You come closer and she scoots back a little, prompting you to stop. “No, it’s okay, I’m sure she won’t mind, I won’t tell her.” Maybe changing the topic would help calm her down, “H-hey, you… You have a really nice singing voice.”

She looks directly at you, a glow of a blush on her face. “N-no… It’s not that good… I-”

You will not stand for this adorable robot not accepting a nice compliment. “Don’t put yourself down, I’m being honest! Heck,” You lower your voice a little, “I think you’re better than Chica.” Her ears perk up and her eyes brighten a little.

“You… You really think that..?” A little smile forms on her face.

You nod enthusiastically, “Yeah, you’d really knock em dead on stage!”

Her smile droops suddenly into a frown. Looks like you hit a sore point. “No.. No… people…. P-people don’t want to see me on stage.” Her eyes drift from you again.

You move closer to her, and she doesn’t recoil. You’re frowning now too. “Why would you think that?” you ask.

Bonnie looks back up at you, her mouth wibbling a little as she clenches the fabric in her hands a little more. She stays quiet for a few beats, then softly talks, “B-before I came here… I… I was in a band and it m-made lots of people happy… But something inside of me broke and got stuck and… And I couldn’t move my a-arms and b-body anymore. No one wanted to fix me… b-but they still kept me on s-stage. Everyone else could move, but I was j-just… s-ss-stuck there… People got mad and yelled that I was ruining the show, b--but I couldn’t help it.. I wanted to move for them… I.. I wanted to make them happy… But… All the mean things they said.. a--and s-stuff they threw a-at me….” You had no idea mechanically how, but tears were dribbling down her furred cheeks. She brought up a paw and wiped at them.

Thinking on the fly, you put an arm around her shoulders. She doesn’t pull away, and instead pulls in, crying into your shoulder. You pat her a few times and she continues, muffled by your shirt. “I k-know I’m h-here to dance and sing and I… I don’t wanna disappoint Mama…” She trails off, her little sobs making your heart goddamn break.

You add in your other arm and make this into a hug. This seems like a hugging kind of a situation. “Mama still loves you I’m sure, no matter what you do. I mean, she’s really nice and understanding,” Bonnie’s arms go around you, clinging tightly. You pat her a couple more times. “I’ve been through a lot too.”

She was calming down. A minute or two passed, and the hug remained resilient. You just keep your arms around her, petting her back comfortingly while the sadness dissipates. Her crying stops, and she just lets you hold her. Eventually she speaks, “M-mike… I’m sorry…”

“No, I understand how it is sometimes. Sometimes you just have to cry it out.” She give a little smile at how kind you are, and you can’t help but flush a little. She parts from you and is about to say something, when she suddenly catches that her arms, which had been hugging you, were no longer holding the fabric that was covering up her top half. Her eyes look alarmed as she throws her arms over her chest.

The bunny cries out a “S-SORRY” before bolting away, the crashing of her bumping into things following her out of the store room.

You stand there for a second, thinking about the moment you two had shared. Your brain concludes ‘sad but adorable’ as the proper description for it. If there’s anything you need to accomplish at this job, it’s getting that robot the stage recognition and confidence she deserves. After all, it’s a matter of family now, right? Satisfied by that little shot of determination to your system, you head on your way to finish your patrol.

\---

In her dressing room, the mistress of the building smiled to herself, watching her latest addition making his rounds on her bank of security monitors. She had been hooked on them ever since he had arrived, which was all normal procedure for whenever a new face came around to fill in the night shift. Calmly and purposefully, she picked up the folder Gary had delivered to her room while she was on stage last. She now had the time to poke through it. The contracts were all signed and everything was in order.

The bear pulled herself to her dainty feet and approached a finely decorated file cabinet, tucked behind an old fashioned changing screen in the corner. She thumbed through the files within, settling on the S section. She withdrew an already thick folder, labeled ‘SCHMIDT, MICHAEL’ and brought it back to her sitting area. She combined the two folders, shuffling through the one she had extracted the most. Documents of fingerprints, medical records, school records, a list of former addresses, girlfriends, family members and other interesting things flashed by Fredrica’s eyes. Of course, Mike hadn’t submitted any of that to her, but finding information in her position was not at all difficult. She had read everything twice over well before they had met face to face.

While perhaps this level of research was invasive to some degree, she had to know the sort of personality she would be bringing into her den. So far, she assessed several things, through his file and his actions she had witnessed. Michael was not that smart. She didn’t mind or hold it against him. In fact, some of the best people she knew weren’t all that intelligent. While he lacked a lot in the wits department, she was quite surprised by his level of compassion. The little thing with Bonnie was just fantastic. But best of all, he was willing to be a follower. Loyalty was the main thing she had desired in a replacement for Randolfo. Poor, poor Randolfo. While he fit the bill for his lack of connections/people that would miss him, he lacked compassion and, ultimately, loyalty. Now, he lacked far more than that.

But it was no time to bring up such a bitter flavor. She tapped the side of the stack of papers on her thigh, setting them all to the same position, then stowed them away in the folder. The robot figured it was time to tell Daddy all the good news.

Fredrica took a hold of the antique brass and mother-of-pearl phone receiver and dialed his number. As the first one in her databank, it was always the easiest to remember. Though it was nearing 6 am, closing time for the theatre, she knew for a fact that he was awake already. After a few rings, the other side picked up.

“Hello Sugar Daddy,” She cooed in her relaxed, smooth voice, “I wanted to let you know about Michael. He has done spectacularly for his first night. He already tackled the Mayor and is on the way of gaining trust from the girls. I think he might be the one that finally brings Bonnie on stage.”

The voice on the phone responds curtly, “Very good, report to me tomorrow night on him. Daddy loves you.”

She smiles warmly, “And Mama Bear loves you too~” The animatronic hangs up and watches her cameras as her new little darling says his goodbyes to Gary at the door. He’s rubbing his eyes, but he looks happy. He had a lot to meet in this job, but she had a good feeling.

Mama took a pen, and on a pad of paper made a single tally mark, giving her usual half-lidded smile.


	3. Chapter 3

You wake up from a satisfying sleep. It had been a while since you had one of those. You sit up and rub at your eyes, the afternoon light flooding in and bouncing off the white walls of your studio apartment. After a good stretch, you get to your feet and check the display of the cheap little alarm clock on your dresser. It’s nearly 3 pm. The events of the night prior seemed like they had all been a waking dream, but the name tag and cap labeled ‘SECURITY’ sitting next to your clock helped you fully realized that everything had indeed happened.

As you were leaving that morning, Gary had pulled you aside. He laughed about all the tripping you had done over things in the back, and suggested that maybe you come in during the daylight hours, while the theatre was closed, and get better acquainted with the layout. You had the slightest feeling that the acquainting he wanted you to do was not just with the building. Though, you had to admit, you did wonder what the girls were up to while they weren’t performing. Visions of super high tech charging pods briefly flashed through your mind as you walked into the bathroom to get cleaned up.

While the building looked less shady during the day, and the neighborhood at least slightly less dingy, it was still indeed a rough part of town, tucked away from the more touristy center, about 5 blocks down the road. You wondered about out-of-towners wandering into the place and being scared out of it in seconds flat. Chuckling to yourself about this, you parked and headed to the door. You gave a couple hard knocks. A whirr of gears from above your head prompted you to look up, a blinking security camera greeting you. After a few seconds, the door unbolted, seemingly on its own. You step inside and close it behind you. The stout little man is seated at the bar and gives a friendly wave when he notices you. He hops off the stool and comes over to greet you.

“Heya kid, I was wonderin if you were gonna come while the sun was still out,” He waddles back to the bar and pats the wooden counter. “Hm, since you’re not on shift for a while, hows about a drink? Just a little something to wake ya up?”

“Sure,” You respond. Before you can make an order, Gary’s already behind the bar, preparing your drink. You shrug a little to yourself and get onto a stool. Twisting it around, you get a good view of the stage. The curtain is open and set pieces are haphazardly set up, none of them matching each other. One was an English garden, another looked like a jungle, and another was what appeared to be a space station. You had no idea what the acts were, other than them of course involving robots getting naked. You could hear bickering going on from some unseen location backstage. It sounded like Chica. Whoever the other party was wasn’t loud enough to be heard, but you could assume it was probably Foxy by the tone of the chicken’s complaining. Your eavesdropping is interrupted by the clunk of a full glass landing next to you on the counter. Turning to face the bar, you look it over, puzzling about the contents.

“It’s a rum ‘n coke,” He says, probably noting your expression. In his hand is an identical glass and drink. You’re not a big drinker, since it’s kind of a pricey hobby, but you’re not about to turn it down. You take a swig and WOW is that a strong drink. Your face screws up as your throat burns, and the little man just laughs. “Work here long enough and you’ll be able to drink a moose under the table,” He says in a lighthearted voice before taking a gulp of his own cocktail. You figure you’ll wait for your ice to melt a little and dilute the beverage before taking another drink.

After a particularly loud string of swears from backstage, the both of you exchange a look. “So, what are they up to?” You ask.

“Getting ready for tonight. All the girls have offstage duties since it’s such a small crew here. and, well, they’re robots so they don’t really sleep…” One of the set walls on stage starts to wobble, and just before it falls, Foxy swoops down on a rope and catches it, righting it in place before scaling the rope back into the fly gallery. Gary continues, “Bonnie’s on costumes. Out of all the girls, I think she enjoys her duties the most. She can whip up outfits so fast it’ll make your head spin. Foxy, she’s on riggin and lightin and audio tech. She likes it enough, since it keeps her up and away from Chica mosta the time. Now, Chica, she’s supposed to be on makeup and props and set design, buuuut,” He leans in closer across the bar and hushes his voice, “Sheee’s, kinda lazy when it comes ta that.” You watch as the birdbot in question, dressed in a tanktop and pajama shorts, picks up the set that almost fell over and hefts if off stage while grumbling to herself.

You turn back to Gary, “And what about Mama?”

“Ah well, she’s the busiest of them all. She does all the finances and paperwork, as well as phone calls and bookings. We get a LOT of bachelor parties. They’re like 50% of our bread n butter alone.”

“I bet Chica likes that,” You joke, deciding on taking a small sip of your powerful drink. He laughs in response, grinning.

“You’re already catchin on to the feela things around here, I see,” You nod and he takes another drink. “Y’know, it probably wouldn’t be too invasive or nothin if you went back to see what they’re up to. It might even calm ol feathertits down.” Just as you thought, his real intention for you to have more time with the girls showed its head. You, of course, weren’t averse to it all.

You get to your feet and thank Gary for the refreshment before heading toward the backstage.

\---

 

At least in one regard, the squat little man had been right about coming in during the day. The windows in the back were all pulled open, natural light and fresh air making the corridors a little more cheery than they were during the night. You’re able to get a much better lay of the place. Upon first coming up the stairs, you encounter a door you didn’t notice the night before. It was modestly labeled, ‘COSTUMING’. You could hear the comfortable rattle of a sewing machine coming from within. Since you now knew who did what, you could assume it was the bunny behind the door. Smiling, you poke your head in.

Bonnie looks up and appears surprised by your face, but not at all startled. Well, that was a first, and a good first at that. She’s seated at a little metal table. A white sewing machine and several tools of the trade and scraps of fabric litter most of the available space. She appears to be pulling some very shiny gold fabric through the machine. She lets her foot off the pedal, the clunking of the machine coming to a hault. “Hi Mike!” She says happily. She seems to be in just a giddy mood. Perhaps she only gets tense when there’s performances actively happening? The robot withdraws the fabric from under the needle and snips off the loose threads, then sets it onto a pile of similar fabric on a counter behind her. Her eyes settle on you and she gives you her full attention.

“You seem like you’re in high spirits today,” You comment. She quickly nods in response.

“Mama gave me some new patterns and fabric and Chica and Foxy ordered more outfits from me and, gosh, Mike look at this!” She twists and pulls a large bolt of dark red fabric off the counter. “Look, it’s real velvet! Aaaaa…~” She rubs the fabric against her face, and her expression is just one of pure ecstasy. Seeing her happy and passionate about something is even more endearing than seeing her upset. You laugh a little and she blushes. “Also…. I… wanted to apologize for last night. E-everything about it…”

“It was fine Bonnie,” you reassure her, “Sometimes we all do embarrassing things, but that’s part of being human… er… robot too.” She gives you a little smile.

You decide to ask her more about the costumes she’s working on, and she just lights up, telling you all about them and the acts they go with. She shows you her works in progress, and all about how tear away clothing works. She’s so proud of her work, but not in a gloating sort of way. She’s in the middle showing off Foxy’s latest costume, when it reminds you to ask about something.

“So… Why is Foxy always in the pirate getup? I mean, you’ve made her all these cool outfits…”

The rabbit shrugs. “She likes it, I mean… She’s never told me… She doesn’t really talk to me a lot…” You remember Gary mentioning something about the fox’s dark past, and with what you know from Bonnie’s, you find it a little strange they never developed some kind of kinship over having crappy histories. Maybe it didn’t work like that?

You idly pet some of the beaded fabric Bonnie was showing you, “Maybe you two should talk more? I mean she is your sister after all, in this and such. She’s nice too.”

The animatronic is about to respond, when the door flies open. Chica walks in, her arms loaded with some of those giant feathered fans you had seen last night. She plops them down on Bonnie’s fabric counter, “Ey Bonnie, could ya deal with these? They lost some feathers and gems’n stuff last night and Mama needs em again tonight. I’d do it but I’m kinda busy so…”

Bonnie tucks her head down submissively, “Y-yes Chica, I’ll have them done for you.”

The chicken turns and finally notices you. Her tone instantly changes, “Hey Mike! What brings ya into tha inner sanctum? Yer pretty early for work ya know, or could ya not go on with your day without seein a few beautiful dames?” Her mechanical eyebrows waggle.

“Gary suggested I come in early and look at the place during the day,” You explain.

Chica smirks, “Ya know, you see enougha the dirt during the night, just sayin. Just don’t go into anya the bathrooms. You’ll wanna ask the doctor for like 10 shots after sittin your ass in there.” You take her advice into consideration. The bird puts an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in close. “Hey, I actually wanted to talk ta ya in private last night, but ya know, things came up… So if you ain’t too busy here with Bunbuns, maybe come drop by the dressin room a lil later?” You agree to it and she grins. With that she leaves the room, shaking her hips in wide inviting strides.

Bonnie doesn’t look very happy, “..If you want… y-you can go now…” she mumbles, taking a seat back behind her machine and grabbing one of the fans Chica left.

“Gary told me Chica’s supposed to work on props.” You say, frowning at Bonnie’s expression.

“W-well she is but… She’s really busy i-it’s okay…”

“No,” You say, “You’re already really busy in here.” You put on your determined face, “I’m going to go talk to her. I’ll be right back.” Bonnie mumbles something else, but you’re not having it. It’s probably not your place to do this, but you know Bonnie isn’t going to stand up for herself when it comes to Chica, at least not now. Maybe you’ll be able to persuade her better.

You leave the costuming department and head toward the main dressing room.

\---

 

When you approach the door to the dressing room, you find it already open. You try not to peer inside, instead choosing to knock on the doorframe. Even though the one you’re after doesn’t seem to know the first thing about privacy, old habits of yours die hard. Chica comes right to the door, and looks at you with a grin on her beak. “Yer even sooner than I expected, Mike! Was Bunbuns really boring ya that much?” She backs up and lets you in, then shuts and, interestingly, locks the door behind you. You gulp a little. What if defending Bonnie gets her mad at you? You’ve seen how strong these robots are. She could probably smother you to death in her cleavage alone. Speaking of which, her chest was looking on-point, rather literally given the stiff peaks of her nipples protruding from the thin fabric of her tanktop. You’re pretty sure, given her expression, she knows what you’re staring at.

She leads you over to the couch in the corner, and you take a seat, making sure to avoid the cushion you had seen her and the Mayor on the previous night. “Well, it… It’s about Bonnie actually,” You start. She takes a seat next to you at a bit of an angle to better look at your face.

“What about er?” She replies. She doesn’t seem upset yet, so you continue.

“Well, I noticed that she was pretty busy today and well, I know props aren’t supposed to be her thing-” Her laughing stops you mid-thought.

“Is THAT what this is about? Mike,” She chuckles, her arm getting on your shoulders again, “I gotta let ya know, you see, I absolutely STINK at any of that artsy crafty shit. It’s just not in my programmin. Now, those fans, those are MAMA’S. I only gave em to Bonnie because she’s the best at that we have, and Mama deserves only the best for her equipment, don’t ya agree?” You nod, even though your bullshit-o-meter’s needle is twitching quite a bit. She gets closer, her chest nearly touching yours, “Listen, I know you’re just bein a nice guy and lookin out for er, but Bonnie can fight her own battles. We’ve got a system, an she knows it. We’re all on a ladder, and we all know what rung we’re on, ya see?” You accept her explanation, but it still reeks to you.

“But anyways, since yer here, I wanted to ask ya a few things…” Chica’s legs move, and one of them subtly loops onto one of your own. Her chest is touching you now, and you can’t resist staring, since it’s directly in the middle of your vision. Your hand twitches, thinking about how good it probably feels. You quickly ball your fist, but that doesn’t help to hide the redness on your face or the other things going on in your pants. Her other hand rests on your thigh and she looks at you with a half-lidded gaze.

“I know ol Gary probably didn’t say nothin about it, but I, well, us girls, we have needs sometimes, and well, past fellas in your position liked to take those on, if ya catch my drift,” Even you, as dense as you can be, aren’t lost in the least. “I mean well, ya haven’t had a girlfriend in years so yer probably a lil thristy, right?” You stare at her. How did she know that? Noting the look on your face she stumbles over her words, “W-well, just a lucky guess! Don’t look so hurt, Mikey. I was just sayin, if you ever have any needs…” Her hand slips up your thigh, and rests right on the bulge of your pants. You twitch a little under her palm and she squeezes a little in response.

You’re redder than a tomato and your head is rushing. You think about the pros and cons of this, but your foggy, arousal induced logic is spotty at best. Her beak gets right to your ear and she whispers, “Don’t worry, Bonnie won’t mind, She’s come to me herself quite a few times. It’s a friendly service I offer more than anythin, no strings, I promise.” She pulls her hand from your crotch and crosses her fingers to signify her honesty on the matter. It’s only once her palm is off you that you realize how good it felt.

“So, waddya say, Mikey?” She coos.

\---

 

“Chica.” a low but powerful voice states from above. The two of you, of course, snap your heads upward, skimming the darkness for the source of the voice. You settle on the two glowing gold pinpoints above you. The chicken robot, whose hand is still on your dick, does not appear all that pleased by such an interruption.

“WHAT IS IT THIS TIME?” She snaps loudly at the catwalks above.

“Mama wants to see you in her room immediately.” Foxy states, her voice holding the absolute minimum of emotion.

“Urhg fine,” The bird grumbles, removing herself from your personal bubble and straightening out her outfit. She glances down at you, making her expression sultry again just for a moment, “Mikey, I gotta deal with this, but,” she leans down, getting your face almost directly into her cleavage and whispers, “I’m open later~” She turns to leave, and you can just feel her body language radiating about as much sexual frustration as your own body is internally screaming at you.

You decide to just sit back for a few minutes, letting your body cool off and your head get back on straight. You finally flop back into the couch and stare up into the dark above you. It doesn’t take long for you to notice that you’re being watched. Her glowing eyes are nearly beacon-like in the inky black. She remains motionless, eyes locked on yours.

Finally, you ask into the dark, “Foxy?... Why are you watching me…?”

She responds promptly, “You remind me of someone.” She suddenly shifts, leaping down from the bridge above and landing in the room. She comes over to you, keeping her distance, but getting a better look at you.

“Who?” You say.

Her face is expressionless, “A kind man. A man that did not deserve the hands that fate dealt him.”

You laugh a little, awkwardly. Something about her words was very dark, almost intimidating. “Haha yeah, that sounds like me,” Maybe you should try to move the conversation along. “So… I was talking to Bonnie-”

“Yes, I agree. She and I should talk more.” She says, “Perhaps I could teach her how to say no to Chica.”

You look surprised at her knowing all that “Yeah! That’s just what I was thinking!... How did you know…?”

“Everything said on the floor echos upward. I am very good at listening.” She eyes you, “As for my costume, that is a whole… other matter.”

You swallow thickly. You’ll have to keep your personal filter a little more in check, since apparently the walls have ears and not just the eyes you were already aware of.

“To put it simply, the costume reminds me…”

“Of what?” You say with interest.

“Of what I am. No amount of pretty redecoration and upgrades can change what I was and still am, from that day to now.” There’s an edge of something in her voice. Was it anger? Sadness? A little of both? Before you can press her further, she makes an exit, leaping upward and catching a rope into the darkness. She ascends quickly, too high for you to even make out her eyes. You wonder just what on earth that was all about.

You stand up. It’s been a while, and Chica isn’t back yet, so you assume that moment’s over for the time being. You had to admit, now that you had time to think about it, despite what the bird had said to you, you wondered how Bonnie would have felt about the whole thing going further than it did. Somehow, her feelings were slowly becoming one of your main concerns in this place. You pop your security cap off and wipe the sweat from your brow. Not even the beginning of your second shift and this job’s already getting to you in the strangest of ways.

\---

 

You head back into the costuming department. Bonnie lights up when she sees you, almost sewing her hand into the piece of fabric she was hemming. You look over and the fans are sitting splayed out on another work table. You had to admit, the craftsmanship on them really was amazing, and in such little time. You turn to look at her and she’s beaming.

“Do you like them? I decided to add more gems along the supports and put in a few pink feathers to match the pink on Mama’s outfit.” Her eyes are large and filled with anticipation at your answer.

“How… How did you get all this done so fast..? Or… How long was I gone?” You think for a moment, trying to gauge the time that went by. She giggles a little.

“I just work really fast when I like something a lot.” She cocks her head, “Did you talk to Chica?”

You freeze up. Technically, if you leave out details, that’s not lying, but then again… Oh god, you can’t lie to that face… You can feel your palms sweat a little. “W-well yes, I did talk to her and she only had nice things to say about your work because she thinks you’re a lot better than her at arts and crafts and uh… Well she also…Talked about… Needs...”

The bunny’s cheeks go red, and she puts her paws on her face, “Oh gosh… Mike… Did you?”

“Well no, I mean not really, I mean, she just kinda… Grabbed me a little and then Foxy showed up..”

She gasps, “F-foxy joined in too???”

“NN-no! no! She stopped Chica because Mama was looking for her. I mean you can ask her nothing happened really.” You’re sweating hard and blushing as much as she is. God, why were you getting so worked up over this?

“Ohhh…” She lowers her paws from her face, “Wow Mike…” She smiles a little, “You… You’re actually the first one in this job to resist Chica for so long!”

You’re stunned a little, but not surprised. “Really…?” you ask. She nods. You know if Foxy, or more accurately, Mama, hadn’t interrupted, you wouldn’t be able to have that accolade, but you’ll gladly hold it for as long as you could. You suddenly remember what Chica had said about her and Bonnie, and your face flushes a little more. Well, since you’re on the topic with her. “If… If it’s not too bold to ask, Uh… Chica said that sometimes you and her…?”

The robot’s cheeks are redder than ever, but she nods in agreement very slightly. You try your best to control the sudden jolt in your pelvic area. After getting let down with Chica, your libido was not about to forgive you. You watch her, and as she sits, you can see she’s wiggling her thighs in a very particular way into her seat. You’re dense, but not stupid, and know very well what she’s doing.

“Aa-ah but w-we can talk more about that later I have a lot of work to work on!” She says suddenly, her voice coming out awkwardly. She straightens up her posture and tries to get her mind onto another track. “I h-have some patterns to cut out. would you like to help me with them?”

You push back against the feelings in your trousers and agree. At least there was nothing sensual about cutting fabric. Even then, just spending more time with her would be enjoyable.

\---

 

Hours passed as you and Bonnie worked together on costumes. You had no idea something like crafting would ever have been something you personally considered kind of fun. She was a very good teacher, even though you weren’t exactly an excellent student. As you worked, the both of you sitting at one of the many tables in the room, you started to tell her a little more about yourself and your life. You also decided to sanitize it a bit and make it a little less bleak for her sake. Despite your rather normal life, she seemed absolutely enthralled by your stories. It was the first time you actually realized that, since she was a robot and all, she hadn’t experienced most of the things you were telling her about.

Opening up to her was the best idea on your part, because it made her open up in response. She started to tell you all about what she could remember from her past. She pauses in the middle of doing some beading and thinks hard, probably probing the furthest depths of her memory banks. “It’s fuzzier the further back I try to remember, but… I can remember when I first arrived at that restaurant… I was so nervous for my first show…At least I think I was? I had a guitar, a red one. I remember the paint on it was really pretty and sparkly. And there were lots and lots of kids there… They were all so happy Mike! I don’t remember who, but there was a whole band with me.” She closes her eyes for a moment, smiling, “We sang Happy Birthday, and there was a big cake. It was really nice. I know… Back then I wasn’t really able to think a lot, but I know I was happy.” Her eyes pop open, her smile fading a bit, “It was really nice for a while, then they stopped repairing us, and the kids stopped smiling and eventually no one came at all… B-but that’s when Daddy came! He was the first person I had seen in a really long time and he looked at me so kindly… It was the first time someone had smiled at me in a long time… He made me able to walk and talk again, and made me a new body, and… He made me able to feel. Like I was really alive like a person.” She looks at you, “Ah, I’m sorry if my story bored you…”

You shake your head, “No, not at all! It’s really interesting! I never knew robots could remember things that far back.” You look down at the sequins your sewing on so you don’t poke the needle into your finger. “So… Daddy, that’s the owner, right?”

“Yes! He’s very nice! He says that we’re like his children and he gives us gifts too! It’s like having a birthday of our own! He only comes in once a week though since he’s so busy with the side business, but if something ever goes wrong here he drops everything and comes to help. Like last month when Chica’s audio box got gummed up and whenever she tried to sing she sounded like an old man, he was here in minutes flat and had her cleaned up and better than ever before midnight! He’s really amazing, Mike. He and Mama are the best parents a girl could ask for.” You weren’t going to say it, but you were sort of jealous, since your own family had been so dysfunctional.

You get so caught up with listening to Bonnie that you stick yourself pretty badly with the needle. You yelp and grip your finger. “A-Are you hurt?” She asks.

You lick the little spot of blood off your finger, “It’s nothing, I’ll be okay,” You laugh a little, “I guess that’s why I was hired for security and not seamstress work, unless that’s what you had the last guy doing.”

Her expression contorts strangely, “No… No the last person… No… he was a very bad man… A VERY bad man…” She shivers oddly and sets her work down, making you worry. Shit, you always seem to know how to hit a sore spot. She slumps in her chair and speaks very softly, “You.. You’re nothing like he was… He… He… Always said he liked me… But… H-he made me really uncomfortable… But he never dropped it…. A-and he touched me… And I tried to make him stop… B-b-but… He used the wire cutters and.. I c-couldn’t move again…..” Her shivers had evolved into a full tremble. You hug her and she cools down a little with the shaking. “But… But Mama came and saved me. Mama saved me and Daddy fixed me… And… W-well, you’re here now…” She hugs you back, “...Mama made sure he would NEVER hurt anyone again… ever…” While the red flags certainly go up in your head over this, the guy seemed like a scuzzball and seemed to have gotten what he deserved, right? Oh shit… Mama… Killed a man. You really were in a pizza robot mafia family. Or maybe your imagination was just running wild again. You decide to be shaken up by this revelation at a later time and instead focus on comforting Bonnie.

You sooth her in the most innocent and gentle way possible. Even if you made an assumption about the fate of the last man in your position, you know you’re being watched, and you have been from the very start. What Chica said to you last night was no joke. You didn’t mess with any of the robots. Well, you weren’t ever planning to, of course, unless it was totally consensual, but even then, while it was okay for the bird, would Mama want you pulling anything lewd with Bonnie? For now, you’re going to be the most gentlemanly security guard this building has ever witnessed.

Eventually Bonnie gets lost in her work again and is her usual content self. The topics all remain light-hearted for the duration of the evening. Finally, one of the costumes is done. Bonnie looks so happy and immediately folds it and grips it in her arms like a precious bit of cargo. “I have to go show Chica right now! Wait here for just a second, I’ll be right back!” The large hipped purple robot skips out the door, and you’re left in relative silence for the moment.

\---

 

You nearly jump when you hear the door creak open. Your mind had gone amuck with memories of mafia movies and documentaries you had seen over the years. Gary pokes his head into the room. He grins a little, “There ya are kid, it’s been hours! I thought maybe you got lost or fell asleep or somethin.” He looks around at all the costume pieces strewn around the table and his toothy grin widens, “So I see Bonnie roped ya into helping her. She’s never been able to get a guy to do that before.”

“Yeah,” You reply, “It’s actually… kinda fun.” The pudgy suited man comes over and takes a seat sloppily in the chair the bunny had been occupying.

“Ya really know how to lay on the charms,” He says with a laugh. You’re not sure if he’s being honest or sarcastic. Maybe it’s a good entry point to get some thoughts off the top of your head. You clear your throat a little, shuffling awkwardly in your chair to face the man beside you.

“Gary… Is it uh, normal, you know.. The girls having relationships..?” He gives you a weird look, then snickers.

“Of course it is! I’m not sure what ya saw, but yeah, they have all sorts a juicy interactions with each other. ESPECIALLY Chica n Foxy. They’re in a bit of a tiff right now, but it happens from time ta time. They always end up back together within a week er so, then ya can’t pull em off one another.” That was… surprising, but not weird, you guessed? However it wasn’t the answer you were looking for.

You shift again. “A-actually I was wondering if it was okay for them to see… People, I mean like, HUMAN people?”

The little man’s eyebrows raise and he grins like the cat that ate the canary, “Aaaaaah, I see what you’re askin,” Before you can say anything to try to dispel whatever conclusions he jumped to, he speaks. “It ain’t against policy or nothin, believe me, I know. So long as she likes ya and ya don’t do anything fuckin creepy or damagin with her, then yeah, there’s no rules.” He nudges you with his elbow and gets close, whispering, “Buuut, it might be best ta take it slow with Bonnie. She’s got an unpleasant history with creeps, and she won’t move into any kinda serious relationship without Mama Bear and Sugar Daddy’s blessings.”

As you let what he said absorb into your brain, the door swings open, Bonnie coming in excitedly, “Mike! Oh, and Gary! Look! Look how it looks on her!” The bunnybot steps aside and Chica walks into the room, dressed in the outfit the two of you had made together.

“How’d ya like it, boys?” Chica says, turning and showing the whole thing off.

“Stunning!” You say with a little too much enthusiasm.

She smiles at you. “Now how about ya get a gander at the rest of it?” the chicken coos, grabbing for the zipper.

Gary interrupts. “Hey now, save the surprise for the act tonight. I’m sure he’d like it even better with the proper lightin and music.” She thinks for a moment, then agrees, setting her arm back at her side. “Well at least he ain’t got too long to wait.” It suddenly hits you how long you’ve been there. You glance down at your watch. It’s already nearing 10 pm.

Gary’s the first to stand up, and he pats you on the back, “It’s about time for the girls to get ready for tonight’s show. C’mon, we can grab another drink before yer shift starts.” You nod and get up, following him toward the door. Suddenly you’re stopped by arms around you.

Bonnie snuggles against your shoulder, her eyes closed and her little mouth in a smile. You can hear the faint whirr of gears inside of her. “Have a good night Mike! And thanks for all the help!” she hums. Chica tisks at this.

“Ya know he’s still gonna be here all night, right Bunbuns?” She lets go of you.

“Ah, y-yeah. Sorry, I’ll see you more tonight then!” Bonnie corrects herself.

Gary pulls you along, and the purple animatronic says goodbye again before you close the door.

The stubby man turns and looks at you with his usual smirk, “You best treat that girl right.” He says before heading back toward the bar. You don’t answer, but you follow, touching a hand to your rather warm cheek.


	4. Chapter 4

You grab a piece of pizza from the kitchen before settling down for the night in your office. You were lucky enough to catch the first pie of the night. The kitchen staff didn’t speak much english, but they were nice enough, and made a damn fine slice of pepperoni. Certainly better than you remember any other pizza animatronic place having.

As you munch on your dinner, you watch as they start to let patrons in. You had to wonder about the decision on the hours. Why didn’t they open sooner in the evening to get more dinner crowds? Or why did they close at 6am of all times? Or more importantly, how on earth did they get away with selling alcohol after 2am? You were going to go out on a limb, but you were pretty darn certain it had to do with ‘connections’ and ‘video footage of the mayor sticking his dick in a chicken’.

The patrons themselves were an understandable lot. You had seen most of the same faces the night before. Older men that probably looked way older than they were. Others coming in seemed totally unfitting for the venue. Dressed in stiff black suits with slicked back, oily hair. You weren’t going to pass judgement because they looked like they were having as good of a time as the regulars. But, it was your job to notice things out of the ordinary you supposed.

The magic hour struck, and the show started. You held tight and got ready to dab furiously at your sweaty brow. The spotlight came down to the center of the stage, and from the curtain stepped Mama. A roar of applause greeted her, and she smiled in that collected sort of way she usually did. She was looking radiant and classy as ever, dressed in a black, curve-hugging gown. While she was certainly larger than the other girls, with a lot a chassis, it was in all the right places. On her head was a large picture hat, made of the same black material. Was that satin? Yeah, it was. Wow, that sewing lesson really was rubbing off on you.

In her hand was a microphone. Once the cheers died down, she addressed her audience. “Gentlemen… and gentlemen, welcome to Fredrica’s All-Night Pizza and Burlesque Saloon, where we serve up extra cheese with none of the sleeze. I’m Fredrica, and as your hostess tonight, I am pleased to introduce you to myself as well as my two sweetest girls, Chica Poulet and Foxy Fine!” The two robots come on stage at their names being called. They’re both in matching outfits, shimmery beaded mini-dresses in silver and probably 15 pounds of glitter. Your mind wanders, wondering about how long it takes to comb all that glitter out of faux fur. Mama goes on with the introduction, getting the guys worked up again. The three then sing a song together, welcoming everyone in for the night. It’s loaded with more sexual pizza puns than you thought were possible. You eye the rest of your dinner sitting on the plate beside you. No, you are not going to start getting boners over pizza. Not now.

Once their song is finished, they leave the stage for the first 15 minute pause. You look over your monitors to see what sort of action is going on. On the dressing room cam, you watch as Mama, after patting Foxy and Chica on the shoulders, heads back toward her dressing room. Once she’s out of earshot, the two remaining start bickering about being off cue. Or more accurately, Chica bickers while Foxy quietly changes out of her outfit and into her usual pirate garb. You feel a little weird about watching them like this, and your body feels even weirder, but, there’s a camera there for a reason, and your job is to watch cameras, so...

“It’s not like we don’t practice or nothin, you know you’re not supposed ta come on stage till Mama says the ‘and’ afta my name!” The primadonna chicken gripes as she changes.

The vixen’s response is flat as usual. “You were early too.”

“Well, not as early as you were! You’d think after this many shows you’d have that shit down. Maybe you’ve still got some gunk stuck in that metal heada yours from back from when-”

SLAP. Foxy’s backhand looked about as stinging as it was fast. You weren’t sure if Chica was feeling pain or was just in shock from her lashing out. She brings a yellow hand to her cheek. Foxy lets it sink in a little before speaking, slowly lowering her hand.

“Chica. You are never to mention that.” Her voice, while low, has a sharp bite to it. “I don’t care how angry you are at me, or how long you are going to play up this act pretending to be mad with me for attention, but NEVER even THINK about bringing that into this.”

Showing an uncharacteristic amount of obedience, Chica nods silently. She looked like she really knew she had goofed and crossed a line. “I.. I’m sorry.” She finally says. “Not just for that… For the whole fight… Now that I look at it, it was pretty stupid. Y’know, you didn’t control which picture of me got on those postcards.” Her face scrunches a little, “But ya didn’t have to rub it in that you looked like, 10 times hotter than me. But I mean, yeah, ya didn’t really rub it in that much. And well, ya can’t really help being goddamn sexy.”

“I’m sorry for slapping you.” the fox says, “But you know-”

Chica interrupts, “No no, I woulda slapped me too. I was outta line. Sometimes I really need one, and I know you’re the only one here with the balls to do it,” She trails off for a couple seconds, then speaks up, “So uh… We cool again..?”

Foxy nods and Chica smiles. The slim vixenbot comes over and puts her arms around the buxom chicken, giving her a reassuring little kiss on the cheek. Chica grins, raising her eyebrows. “So I’m guessin’ I get back my passport ta Pirate Cove?”

The voice that comes out of the hooked robot is almost totally unlike her own when she smiles and says deeply, “And ye may lay to that!” Chica laughs, and in response, the fox looks rather embarrassed, covering her mouth.

“See, that’s why I love ya, Cap’n,” The bird says, rather sweetly, pulling the other robot into another embrace and another, far lewder kiss. Foxy responds, and wow, is it getting hot in this office? You wipe the sweat off your brow, as you predicted you would need to at some point tonight. As they start feeling at one another, the pirate animatronic grabs Chica around the waist and jumps, pulling her upward into the rigging for more privacy. You hear the chicken squak in surprise, then nothing else. They’ve moved out of range of the camera’s mic.

You sit in silence. You had to admit, you were happy for them. And maybe Chica would stop putting the heat on you now that they were apparently an item again. Or maybe she’d do it even more now, and get Foxy to join in- NO that’s enough for right now brain, you scold at yourself. It’s almost a relief when you hear the music and Mama once more takes the stage.

\---INTERLEWD---  
[This part is not needed for the plot, so you may skip ahead]

 

As much as Chica didn’t want to admit it, she had missed how nice it felt to not be a massive bitch toward Foxy. Even just a month of trying to keep up the facade of anger directed at her lover had been downright tiring. She was pretty shocked the fox had ever accepted her apology. Maybe she was just as tired of all the petty fighting. The tall, slim robot was always so mysterious about her feelings, preferring to lock them up in that metal melon of hers while hiding up in her pirate knot treehouse.

Just being able to touch and kiss her again made any remaining animosity melt away. As they embraced, the chicken tossed a quick glance at the camera mounted on the wall, silently blinking. She knew he was watching this. No way would that hunk of man meat pass up a visual feast like they were laying out. But, before it could get much more than a solid PG-13, Foxy grabbed Chica and pulled her up onto the catwalk.

“Hey Tarzan, what’s the big deal??” She squaks under her breath.

Foxy releases Chica onto the walkway. She’s quiet for a moment, then speaks softly. “... I don’t want him to see it.”

The busty bird sooths her, putting an arm around her affectionately. “Aww Cap’n... He’s already okay with us, y’know, bein sexually active pizza robot animals, what’s a lil thing like that gonna be to him?”

“I know… I know you really enjoy showing off for the camera, Chica, but... “

“Na na, it’s okay, It’s fine. He doesn’t need to see everything if it makes ya uncomfortable,” She pulls the lithe fox into another kiss, and neither of them hold back, since they’re out of the reach of any camera that they’re aware of. Chica draws her fingers between Foxy’s legs and rubs in deep, eliciting a shudder of pleasure from her. “I bet that shivers ya timbers after not havin it for a while, eh?” the animatronic teases.

“A-aye,” she responds, leaning her head back, her voice lowering to a deeper warmer tone, unfitting of her feminine frame.

“Well are we gonna do this down here or are we goin up to your place?” Chica grins a toothy, beaked smile. “Or are ya gonna let one of the cameras pick up ya pirate voice and make Mike shit his pants?” Foxy just nods and wraps her handed arm about her lover’s waist, Then grabs onto one of her many rigged up elevator ropes with a snag of her hook. The two begin to ascend and Chica wraps her thighs around the other robot, not so much for safety, but more just because she could.

The motor above whirrs away until they’re up to the ceiling, It’s dark, but the both of them could navigate it in sleepmode. Foxy’s feet meet the deck of the faux pirate ship, built around an old set piece and expanded on. The entire system hung from several hundred ropes, all tied and knotted perfectly and securely to the rails of the fly system.

“Good ol’ Pirate Cove. I really missed it,” The bird says taking a seat on a crate affixed to the deck of the ship. “But it ain’t what I missed most of all~” Foxy doesn’t need any kind of instruction. She sits on Chica’s lap, facing her. She doesn’t even exchange words, diving right into a tonguey, lewd make out session. Her hand isn’t shy at all, grabbing a handful of tempting chicken breast. The vixen’s fingers quickly track down and pinch and pull at her nipple in a rather rough manner, dislodging the pasty over it and tossing it aside into the darkness. This of course, was just the way both of them liked it. As for her hooked hand, she lowers it and rubs the blunt curve of it between the other animatron’s thighs, knowing very well just where to put it.

Chica responds to this treatment gladly, her own hands pulling off Foxy’s top as quick as she can. She goes in with her beak, clamping at a nipple. The sensors of the pirate’s electronic nerve system light up, encouraging a throaty little groan from her. She presses her hook harder, leaving an indent, just barely hiding the anatomy beneath Chica’s panties. As good as it all is, they can’t be taking too long. The show was still on technically so, the larger of the two decides to move this teasing along to the next level. She raises her head and gets back to smoochin. Her hands however, dive into the fox’s drawers. She was so great at hiding it while poised and focused on performing, but the instant she was able to figuratively let her hair down and let her pirate flag fly, the robot was just miserable at keeping it contained. The chicken’s robotic fingers gripped at the bulge in the Cap’n’s pants tightly, causing the vixen to moan raspily.

“Already at full mast I see~” She snickers.

“And ya best be gettin on it, ye saucy wench,” Foxy hisses, her voice completely and utterly full pirate. Her hook suddenly twists and catches the fabric crotch of Chica’s undies, ripping them apart effortlessly.

“Hey, I liked those. You know how embarassin it is havin ta get Bonnie to sew my underpants back together all the time?” Ignoring her complaint, the fox robot pulls off her shorts, and without damaging them at all, Chica notes. Once the fabric is out of the way, her personal anatomy is freed. Stiff, slick, red, and knotted were all things easily able to describe Foxy’s cock. The ample size of it was a whole other matter. Regardless of all the guys the bird had been with, she was still the owner of Chica’s most favorite ‘pirate treasure’. Foxy gets to her feet motions for her lover to get into position.

“C’mon ya squiffy we ain’t got all night,” She says, impatient with Chica being so slow. She doesn’t want to keep the Cap’n waiting of course, and quickly spreads her legs. When she gets aimed and thrusts in, Foxy is beyond rough, jamming her knot in in the first thrust. Chica whines loudly with pleasure. She missed this, she missed getting this so much. Foxy quickly pulls back, popping the thick base of her dick out, then ramming it right back it. She continues, fast and relentless.

The feeling of it sends the bird into a state of pure ecstasy pretty quickly, her eyes rolling back and her body slumping against the nautical set pieces behind her. Her fingers take over teasing her nipples where her pirate companion had left off. As for the fox, the feeling is mutual as she gets lost in the hot slick friction. The sound of her gears moving is audible, as well as the hum of cooling fans kicking into overdrive. They were both rather pent up, making certain that this encounter would not be incredibly lenghtly.

It doesn’t take all that long for the two to hit their peaks. Chica gives in first, her hips shivering and thighs clenching around the other robot. She moans for her Cap’n, loud and true. Such a display makes it impossible for Foxy to resist. Her fingers grip the other animatronic’s leg as she gives it one more powerful thrust, her knot widened to the point of it not coming back out. She grunts deeply, releasing in hard, rolling gushes. She can’t pull out quite yet, but wiggling a little feels great.

Despite being robots and all, the two are left panting. That’s what happens when a human programs sex after all. Foxy is the first to lean in, giving Chika a soft kiss on the beak, her fingers still digging into the chick’s thigh. She clears her throat a little, and speaks softly, her voice back to it’s usual monotone but female qualities. “Thank you. I needed that.”

Chica sits up on her hands, “Wow, that was a good one! Ya really know how ta stick it to a girl. Ya kinda got super piratey there for a sec, more than usual.”

“I can’t help it and you know it.”

“No no no, I like it. A real lady wants nothin more than to be ravaged by a lusty pirate.” The bird says with a wink. She moves a little and realizes that Foxy’s pretty well stuck in her. She’d gone so long without it she totally forgot about the wait. She checks her internal clock. “Fuck, I gotta go on in five minutes.” She flops back down onto her back. Mama’d give them both a talking to about being late, but just for that moment, neither of them cared.

\---END INTERLEWD---

 

The shebear was as calm and gentle in her mannerisms as usual, but you could tell she was taking the stage out of the usual order. Chica was supposed to be on next, according to the set list Bonnie had shown you earlier that evening. While she remained professional, you couldn’t help but feel on the inside her circuits were quite heated in regard to her two star performers.

She does her fan act, using the props bunny had so skillfully refurbished. The pink feathers really did work well with the puffy, bustled outfit she was sensually removing. The farmost curtain is simply closed behind her, probably due to the robot that usually dropped the backdrops down from the fly gallery being rather pre-occupied.

Due to the relationship between the window and the stage, it offered you an angled view, and with nothing to hide the wings off the stage you’re able to discern something in the shadows, with large glowing pink eyes. As you get a better look, you can see Bonnie has her hands up against her chest and balled up excitedly. She must be very pleased with her costuming decisions as well. She’s too cute for you, she really is.

Mama finishes up and the crowd hoots and hollers, except that group of men you spied earlier. They’re seated at a large booth in the corner, all of them sharing what appears to be a margerita pizza and red wine. They clap softly like people do at respectable functions, just for the sake of not seeming rude for foregoing claps altogether. They’re like their own little island of drastically over-dressed, oily men. No one else in the dining room is seated within 4 or 5 tables of them. You figure Gary had to have approved of them before letting them in the door, so they weren’t dangerous or something…. Right? Just some regular dudes out on a Tuesday night for pizza and entertainment.

You jump when the phone beside you on the desk suddenly rings to life. The small green display screen glows in the darkness. All it says is “MAMA, NUMBER UNKNOWN” You scramble to pick it up and, as expected, Fredrica is on the other line.

“Michael, dear,” she says before you can get out a hello, “I am calling a meeting right this moment. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble, but I think you may benefit from the discussion. Please come to my room immediately.” You say you’ll be right there and she hangs up, leaving you with a dead receiver in your hand. Your observation was correct. Despite formalities, Mama Bear was mad as hell. You were only lucky that you weren’t the object of her ilk. Hopefully, you never would be.

You get up from your seat and grab your flashlight. You wondered how far she was going to go when it came to punishing Chica and Foxy. You could assume it was nothing like whatever happened to that creep who had your job last, but seeing how all the girls respected her to a very high degree, it probably was not going to be a lenient punishment.

The only question that remained on your mind as you headed toward the back of the building was why on earth she thought you needed to be privy to it. ‘Benefit from the discussion’... Maybe it was a way for her to flex her power for you, so you didn’t have second thoughts about crossing her, not that you ever would consider it after what the other girls had told you.

You meet up with Gary about half-way along your journey, but he isn’t smiling his usual cat-like grin. He probably witnessed only part of what happened. “Hey, kid,” He says as he gets to your side.

“You got called too?” You ask him. The little man nods, still looking a bit grim. “Are these kind of meetings… Normal?” You continue with another question.

“No. Not unless Mama’s really blowin her lid. She usually waits until closing, but whatever this is… Probably isn’t good.” You figure you won’t mention what you witnessed on the cameras. You’d probably have to say it during the meeting anyways, so it would be a waste of breath coming clean about it now.

When you reach the door, it’s eerily quiet inside the room, despite it being no doubt occupied by all four robots. Both you and Gary simultaneously gulp in some air nervously before you grab for the antique knob and turn it slowly.

\---

 

The two humans, yourself and the squat little doorman, carefully open the door and step in. All four of the robots inside are silently looking at you. Bonnie looks like a wreck already even though you’re sure that the meeting hasn’t begun yet. Chica and Foxy seem to be holding on a little better, but not much. They’re know they’re in big trouble. Mama Bear greets you both.

“Gary, Michael, please take a seat,” She gestures to some rather ornate iron chairs. They weren’t there before, but since most of her furniture space was already taken up by the girls, you could understand their current presence. You both take a seat. Fredrica adjusts her black, silky dressing robe and props one of her legs on the opposite thigh, crossing her legs politely before opening the meeting.

“Ladies…” She pauses, “And gentlemen, I would like to first state that I love every last one of you. You are, after all, part of the Fazbear family, and as such, my kin and also my responsibility. However,” Her eyes dart to the two culprits, “It has come to my attention that certain parties present have started to become… Distracted from their prime directives. The most important rule at Fredrica’s All-Night Burlesque and Pizza Saloon, besides family, is…?”

Bonnie speaks up, “T-the show must go on…?”

Mama smiles warmly, “Yes, dear, exactly. The show must go on.” She glances at you and Gary. “Despite what they may say on the street, we are most certainly not some kind of seedy stripclub den of debauchery. Burlesque is an art, and we are artists. And since we are such, I, and especially Daddy, expect a certain level of professionalism.” Her eyes fall back on the chicken and the fox. “Tonight is not the first night in the last month that we have had performers getting on stage late or not at all, and that is unacceptable. We have made a promise to our customers for timely, scheduled entertainment. We have made all of these commitments weeks in advance and we have prepped and planned them for just as long. When you don’t hold up your portion of the weight, it falls on the rest of the family’s shoulders. Have I made myself clear?” You nod, despite knowing it wasn’t directed at you. But, you notice that Gary had nodded too.

The air in the room felt tense enough to cut with a knife. Everyone knew what was coming next was the subject of punishment. The eerie silence of the room nearly got to you as Mama dragged out the pause just enough to make the whole group uncomfortable. “I have spoken with Daddy, and he and I have come to a few decisions. First and foremost, there will be no more fraternizing while there is an audience to entertain. This goes for all employees, as well as our pizza party guests.” Chica huffs a little, but after a quick glare from Mama, holds it in. “Our repeat private customers have been informed and will now only pay scheduled visits, at least until we break some… Bad habits.” Chica looks upset, but Foxy seems the same level of tense she was when you walked in. Then again, she tended to have the emotional expression of a rock.

“Secondly,” the bear continues, “All non-animatronic employees, until further notice, are to only be on premises when scheduled. The girls need time to practice and prep, free of distractions.” You frown a little. These two new rules pool in the back of your head, making you put together that pursuing any sort of relationship with a certain bunny was now going to be VERY difficult. Your gut rolls a little at the realization. You look across the room and see Bonnie’s big pink eyes looking right at you. She looks away, her lip wibbling like she’s about to cry.

“And lastly, It has been 6 months since Bonnie joined our family, and both Daddy and myself feel that it is time for her to finally take to the stage. We have had many customers asking about her and wanting to see her do more than kitten work.” She addressed the purple one directly, “We will begin training you after closing this morning.” Bonnie buries her head against Chica’s shoulder and the chicken pats her comfortingly.

Gary, now that he knows the meeting had little to do with himself, speaks up. “Mama, if I may, I’d like ta suggest maybe letting Mike here help with Bonnie’s trainin. I mean, he don’t know much to nothing about our artform here, so it’d be teachin two birds with one stone. And I’m sure havin a friend along would with really help with her confidence.” You hold back your smile. Gary you magnificent bastard. Bonnie’s face is no longer plunged against the birdbot, instead her crying has paused, waiting for Mama’s response.

The shebear thinks, “I will discuss it with Daddy. Michael, would you be willing? These would be work hours, and as such, the usual rules would apply.” Your response is quick.

“Yes! Anything to help a friend,” you say happily. The bunny shoots you a little smile and you feel like you’re going to melt. For a second, you swear you saw Mama smiling too.

“I will let you know the decision by the end of your shift. You may go now, Gary, Mr. Schmidt.” You stand and thank her before leaving. The girls remain, probably to get more instructions centered only at pizza robot dancers. You and the little man leave the room.

Once out of earshot, you whisper to him. “I owe you,”

He laughs, “Na, ya don’t owe me shit. Just get that bunny on stage and you’ll have paid any debt ya could possibly rack up here.” He parts from you with that, heading back to the front door.

As you walk back to your office, you can’t help but feel more of that meeting was directed at you than it should have been for someone who it allegedly didn’t majorly concern. Was this a test? Probably, yeah. You crack your knuckles a little. You know what you have to do now. Hell or highwater, you’re gonna make sure Bonnie becomes a shining star in this dingy theatre.

\---

 

You remain a little on edge the rest of the night as you sit at your chair in the security office. You didn’t care what Gary said. You really did owe him for sticking his neck out for you like that. Even then, Mama hadn’t given a yes or a no on the matter, so there you waited. She said she would let you know her decision before the end of your shift, but, since it was only 1 am, that was a potential five hours of anticipation. You suppose the only thing you can do at this point is your job.

The girls had since left Mama’s room to get back to putting on the show. Foxy was in the middle of performing an act. Something jungle themed with lots of rope acrobatics. Despite her punishment, she was as focused and professional as ever, doing several flips in the air and landing flawlessly and mostly naked. You look toward the corner of the dining room.

Those greasy, suited fellows from before are still occupying their booth, but they seem to have grown in number since you last checked on them. There was probably about 7 of them now, the extras spilling into the adjacent booth. They were done with their pizza, but continued to order rounds of wine. They seemed to be watching the robot on stage with a lot of interest. But then again, who in the restaurant wasn’t?

Foxy finishes her act, and one of the men, the oldest looking of them, with salt and pepper hair and a finely trimmed beard, peers at his watch. In almost unison, they stand. The one you assume to be their leader fishes some money out of the breast pocket of his suit and slaps it on the table. You’re not sure how big their bill was, but it appears to be quite a healthy stack of cash. Probably more than your whole paycheck would be. They file out of their booths and head toward the door.

You follow their progress through the building via your cameras. They get to the front doors where Gary is and the whole horde stops. The tall leader looks at him, then he turns, looking directly at your camera. Gary says something in a hushed voice you can’t quite make out. In fact, you’re not sure if it was even in English. The head of the crew nods, and replies. Yes, that definitely was not a language you understood. Your first assumption was Italian. Gary takes the lead and guides them down the hall, the same one you first went down when you first arrived the night before. You switch to the next feed, right outside your office door. It’s dark, but you can make out the tour of men heading down the corridor. You’re a bit relieved when they pass by your room without coming inside. As they walk by you can hear them chatting away, still in a foreign language. You swear you catch the name ‘Bonnie’ in their conversation.

You click to the next camera, backstage. This one is even darker. You see their shadows pass and head deeper into the blackness, no doubt toward Mama’s. None of your other feeds come any closer to her domain. You’re not worried. You know she knows she has visitors. She just… Knows these things.

Before you can mull over the men or their reason for being there any further, you hear soft voice behind you say your name. You whip your head around and see a form standing in the doorway. By her distinctive shape, you can tell who it is. “S-sorry if I scared you…” The bunny apologizes, bowing her body a little. She has something in her arms.

“Bonnie! Please come in!” You say warmly, offering her the wooden chair beside you. She smiles happily and takes a seat, her petticoated skirt puffing out around her like a huge pillow. The bundle in her arms is wrapped in fabric, and about the size of a cantaloupe. “What brings you over here?” You ask, eyes on the thing she’s holding.

“W-well… Mostly… I wanted to thank you for wanting to help with my training. I… I know Mama said not to tell you yet… But she agreed to letting you come and help. Chica said she wants to teach you to do an act too.” She blushes a little, probably thinking about that. You can’t help but feel a bit flushed too. Her hands fidget a little at the thing in her grasp. “And this… Mama said you might get lonely in here all night, so she wanted to give you someone to talk to.” She unwraps the fabric and inside is a small cupcake robot, with large wide eyes and a candle on top. It sort of looks like a cross between a girl and a pastry.

To your shock, as soon as it’s uncovered, it says “SURPRISE!” in a sweet little robotic voice, and looks up at you expectantly with sugary pink irises. Dear god… It’s adorable.

Bonnie explains, “Her name is Carla… She was one of Daddy’s first creations… Before us… Her and her sister were kind of like early versions of the rest of us... She’s very nice and good to talk with! She knows a lot about this whole place and can answer all kinds of questions! Also…” The bunny tilts the cupcake over, making the small robot make a sudden sound of surprise. She gently extracts a cord from under Carla’s cupcake wrapper/dress and plugs in into the main monitor of your security system. “She can help manage your cameras so you can just ask her to switch feeds without having to do it with the controls... Her sister does it for Mama and I know she finds it really helpful..!”

The purple rabbit sets Carla on the desk and the dessertbot wobbles to her stubby feet. “Ah, Bonnie, please warn me before you pull out my cord so suddenly!”

“S-sorry Carla! I was just e-excited to introduce you to M-mike.” She looks genuinely embarrassed, but then again, she always does.

The cupcake smiles serenely, “It’s okay, I know how you feel about him~”

“A-a!” Bonnie squeaks, her cheeks reddening further.

Luckily, it seems the minibot has some tact and doesn’t go into detail. She looks at you. You can hear her little mechanical joints and eyes buzz as she focuses on your face. She curtsies. “It is a pleasure meeting you Mike Schmidt, I’ve heard all about you and I think we’ll make a great security team! You can hold ‘em and I’ll punch!” She does little punching motions. Her size and small voice just make the whole sight heartwarming and ridiculous. You can’t help but laugh. Your appreciation of her comedy seems to please the cupcake, making her grin. You notice her mouth is equipped with sharp little fangs like a vampire. It’s probably best not to question that for now.

The music in the main hall suddenly comes to life and Bonnie hops up. “Oh! I need to get backstage! S-sorry for making this short Mike! I-I’ll see you tomorrow!” She pauses, looking back and forth. You’re about to ask what she’s looking for, but she cuts you off, with her mouth. Your head washes with confusion as you realize her lips are on yours. Time seems to slow to a halt for that moment. You take in the slow-motion-like scene; her big eyes are screwed shut and her cheeks are just glowing hot red. Yours probably are too. Before you can get to really enjoying it, the kiss is over. She squeaks out a “AAAA BYE,” as she runs out the door, involuntarily slamming it behind her. You and Carla both watch as she sprints down the hall, her hands on her cheeks.

You lean back in silence, one of your hands touching at your heated face. Your heart is beating and you can’t even find words if you wanted to. Carla, however, finds them for you. “Oh wow… I didn’t know she’d actually do it when I said she should!”

\---

 

The shock of the kiss slowly wears off after a few minutes. Thankfully, your new partner in crime seems nice enough that she didn’t tease you over the entire incident. Instead the cupcake had her back to you, switching through all your camera feeds and making sure she was online with all of them. You could already see how having her would be an asset.

She finally breaks the silence, her small voice sounding off and snapping you out of your thoughts. “Installation is complete, all cameras in system accounted for!” Carla takes a seat on a stack of magazines and looks you over. “It’s been a long time since they trusted a newbie with me,” she says, “Mama must find you very special, Mike.”

You shake your head “I don’t know why. I mean… I’m not really all that incredible you know? I’m just-”

“Average?” She finishes for you, gears whirring as she tilts her proportionally large head.

“Yeah, average.”

She frowns, “You say it like it’s a bad thing. From what I’ve seen of humans, the ones who think they’re special are never any good. They have to convince themselves that they’re better than everyone else to get through the day, and that makes them step all over people! The average people have nothing to prove. They’re usually good folks, even if everyone else doesn’t find them average at all. Even if people think of them as extraordinary! It’s all about perspective I guess. The Owner, he’s like that.”

Your curiosity is piqued. Bonnie did say Carla knows a lot about things around here. Her creator was probably a topic she was very privy to. “You mean… ‘Daddy’? Right?”

“Yes! He’s very interesting. He usually comes in on Friday nights, sooo, you’re bound to have a chance to run into him later in the week.” Her eyes look you over again quickly, “If what Bonnie’s told me is true, you’ll probably get along really well.” She giggles, more than likely over something she was thinking but not saying.

You could continue grilling the pastry about the mysterious man that runs the place, but the bait she laid out was far too irresistible to you. “What did Bonnie tell you…?”

Her big sweet eyes look off into the other direction and a fanged smile crosses her lips. A very cheeky expression indeed. “I don’t know Miiiike~” Her elvish little gaze darts back to yours, “I didn’t think from your looks that you were the sort to gossip~.”

You back-pedal. “Well, you know, if she said to keep it private I don’t-”

She waggles a little finger, “Ah ah ah~, I’ll tell you, but not everything. Some things have to be kept between animatronics you know. Buttttt, there’s a price~...”

Alright, you’ll bite, “What kind of price?”

The short robot springs ups and walks across your desk, her cord trailing behind her like a long tail. She stops at the edge and pulls open a drawer with all her strength. You look inside. Sugar packets. The drawer is full of sugar packets. You shrug and pull one out and offer it to her. She suddenly snatches it out of your fingers and rips it open. You watch as she devours the granules, making cute sounds as she does. After her snack is finished, she gently sets the wrapper down.

“Well… She likes you a whole lot,” Carla says, licking her lips, “And she thinks you’re a really swell guy. Cute, funny, nice, really she didn’t have a bad thing to say, except maybe working on your sewing skills.”

“Anything else?” You press.

She shakes her head, “Yeah, but that’s private. Robot’s honors.”

You figure it would be rude to push your luck. You had to work with her now after all. “So, you have a sister? I mean, it’s exciting to know there’s other animatronics here I hadn’t met yet.”

She smiles, “Yeah, my sister’s always been really close with Mama. She probably reminds her of Goldilocks. She’s-”

“Who?” You ask.

“Wh- oh, oh… ah…” Carla freezes up. “It’s no one.” You give her a skeptical look, and she responds with a nervous one. Finally she sighs, knowing she screwed up. “...Goldilocks, Fredrica’s older sister… I guess to humans like you she’d be more like a prototype, but… well, things happened. Goldie, she… Well, she’s not around here anymore.”

“What happened?”

“We’re not supposed to talk about it. Mama doesn’t like it. Brings up bad blood. I’d just forget I said anything. Please…?” Her expression is very convincing, and you know, somewhere, Mama was watching, even if she was pre-occupied with those suit guys still. You’ll drop it for now.

Much to the microbot’s relief you change the topic. You’ll try to get more mysteries out of her when she’s less jumpy about them. The two of you instead talk about new technology, as well as desserts. She really enjoys talking about baked goods, but you should have expected as much. Bonnie was right, she was really good to talk to, and a very good listener as well.

5:30am rolls around. You’re in the middle of talking about hockey with Carla when you realize you haven’t seen Mama on stage since those men went to meet with her. Nor had you seen Gary back at his post. It had been 4 and half hours! When it hits you, a knot wads up in the pit of your gut. You were supposed to be security after all. You tell Carla you’ll be right back and pick up your trusty flashlight. Your stomach lurches a little as you stand and head out the door. The cupcake bids you good luck, and you start to head down the dark hall, toward the back, gripping your maglight tight in your grasp.

\---

 

The beam of your flashlight penetrates the inky black of the theatre’s depths as you make your way to Mama’s. The flopping of your insides is frozen by the sound of a door creaking open somewhere in the night. You spin around and shine the bright light into the direction of the noise. Gary puts his hands up, “Whoa kid, it’s me!” He says. He’s half out of a doorway you hadn’t seen before. The peeling paint on the metal door reads ‘private’. He pulls his keyring out of his pocket and quickly bolts the locks on the door shut. There’s 3 of them, which is more than you’d seen on even the exterior doors. He gives a sheepish grin when he’s done.

“W-what happened to those guys?” you ask him. He dusts his hands off on his grubby suit. Maybe it was just the first time you had seen him in this much light, but you could swear there were large darker blotches on his worn black outfit that hadn’t been there when you had seen him earlier.

“Ah, they left about an hour ago out the backdoor. They’re friendsa Mama and Daddy. Good kids for the most part. They’ve got a pizza business and we like ta exchange pointers every so often, touch base, ya know?”

“Oh, okay. I just wanted to make sure Mama was alright. I mean, security and all.” You play it off cool, despite a heavy dose of skepticism over Gary’s honesty weighing your charisma down. “I think I’ll go check on her just to be sure.”

The little man doesn’t protest, but you can sense his slight discomfort. “Go ahead, but she’s probably still getting cleaned up.”

An odd choice of words. But you’d already made someone uncomfortable that evening via catching their verbal slip-ups, so you decide to not clarify that with the doorman. You nod and carry on to Mama’s. Your stubby co-worker scurries off like a roach in the dark.

You get to her dressing room and, like your first visit, her voice catches you before you can even knock. It’s as soothing as always. “Michael, yes, I was expecting you, please come in.” You obey and let yourself into the fancy chamber. Mama is dressed in a red smoking jacket, with some sort of black negligee underneath. Your eyes can’t help but be drawn to the fringed fishnet thighhighs and garterstraps on her thick, shapely thighs. She’s seated at her large vanity, probably getting ready for the finale at 6am, marking closing time. Seated on the counter in front of her is a little robot that looks identical to Carla, save for all of her ‘frosting’ being in a shade of purple, rather than your office mate’s pink. That must be the sister.

Mama finishes applying a layer of bright red lipstick, then turns to you. The cupcake sister does similar. “I apologize for not contacting you earlier about Gary’s proposition. I had some unexpected company drop by. However, I spoke with Daddy, as well as the girls, and they were very passionate about you being here for Bonnie’s training.” Her eyes thin, her expression becoming more playful. “Chica suggested you learn along side her, and I think it is a spectacular idea.” She stands up, and saunters behind her dressing screen. After a couple seconds, she returns, holding what appears to be clothing and a pair of special shoes. The shebear hands them to you. “Here is some dance attire. You may come in at 8pm tonight for your first lesson.” You quickly look at the tags on the outfit. They’re all in your exact sizes. She tilts her head. “Is that alright?”

“Y-yeah! Perfect really!” You stammer. She looks pleased.

“Also, how are you enjoying Carla?”

You brighten up, “She’s great. It’s good having someone to talk to and help with the cameras.”

“Very good.” She takes a seat back at her make-up station and gestures to the other cupcake, “This is her sister, Carol.” the minibot in question bows, but says nothing.

You’re all smiles. Even though Bonnie had spilled the beans to you earlier about Mama’s decision, it felt good to hear it from the source too. Those men from earlier and your encounter with Gary in the dark were distant thoughts when your mind got started on imagining that bunny in a tight little leotard. You force out that thought and try to replace it with some cleaner ones, but with limited success.

Mama glances at the clock on her wall. “It’s nearly showtime for me. If you would like, you may leave a little early today. You have a big evening ahead of you.” Her large hand reaches up and pats your shoulder. “Have a wonderful day, Michael.” Her expression was so soft and genuine. You leave the room and are left with your thoughts as you go to bid Carla farewell and head back home.

You have a moment of clarity as you hug the clothes in your arms. Wait a minute. Did you just agree to becoming a burlesque dancer?!


	5. Chapter 5

You wake up to the sound of your alarm. According to the display, it’s 6 pm in the evening. Though your schedule is all thrown off due to working these odd hours, you know that it’s Friday. Tonight with be your 5th at Fredrica’s. Your arm flops out from under the cocoon of blankets you had made on your pre-owned twin-sized mattress and slaps at the clock to silence it. You groan as you sit up, your stiff muscles protesting against your idea of moving. You thought of yourself as rather fit, and up to any exercise-based challenge, but dancing. Dancing was a lot of work.

It was especially hard when your classmate and your instructor were both robots with seemingly unlimited energy. But you did enjoy it, weirdly enough. You just wished they had reminded the human among them to do some stretches before jumping right in.

There were certainly benefits to the physical labor. Though you wouldn’t admit it out loud, seeing Bonnie in her dancewear alone was worth the muscular anguish. When you had come in Wednesday night for your first lesson, you were totally unprepared. Bonnie’s closet, while expansive and quite nice, tended to stay on the modest side, with long sleeves and high collars and large puffed skirts that hid her frame. Leotards leave nothing to the imagination at all. You had never realized how wide and thick the bunny’s thighs were along with how, uh, generous, her bottom was. While you had gotten a taste of it your first night when you caught her in one of Chica’s outfits, this was the full buffet of tight, curve-hugging body gloves. Even her small bust was accentuated by the thin fabric, as well as her perky little nipples. She looked very embarrassed, and, as soon as Chica started snickering while taking glances at your crotch, you were in that same boat. Dancer belts are the single worst thing at hiding a boner.

But after the initial nervousness, the bird lead both of you to the stage and started drilling on dance routines. Bonnie’s expression was uncomfortable as she glanced out at the empty tables in the dining room. She shot a look at you, and you gave her a smile. She seemed a little better after that. Neither of you were that graceful or well-timed. At one point she stumbled and you caught her in your arms. You had expected her to be much heavier due to being an animatronic and full of metal, but she was actually quite light, probably weighing as much as a human of her height would. The thankful look in her eyes nearly made you melt.

But today was going to be Bonnie’s first night performing. She had been feverishly lost creating her outfit for the act the last couple of nights, so after rehearsal, you tended to not see her much, aside from checking up on the security feed in the costuming department, where she would be rattling away at her sewing machine.

In fact, sometimes you would spend all together too long watching her, resting your head in your hands and happily losing yourself in her work as much as she was. You caught yourself doing it again some time around 4am Thursday morning, and it earned you a prod in the head from Carla.

“There are other feeds to look at, you know,” She said teasingly. You had gotten so lost you had forgotten the cupcake was there, making you jump a little when she touched you.

“Oh uh ah, yeah, yeah, next feed please,” You replied.

She switched the camera to a far less interesting view of the main dressing room where Foxy was doing her make up. You sighed a little.

“In all my years in this business, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy fall so hard so fast,” The dessertbot stated.

You straightened up. “What do you mean?”

She gave you a look that showed she wasn’t believing a single inch of your innocent facade. “Mike, I might be a cupcake, but I’m not stupid. You’re crazy about that girl.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say like CRAZY crazy, but well, I mean, I do like her a lot and I respect her as a friend and-”

“Booooologna,” she interrupted, “It’s obvious you’re head over heels. Remember when you first saw her in the leotar-”

“Okay, that would have happened to ANY guy, cut me some slack.”

“Just admit it, Mike. I’m not going to judge you. We’re friends,” The pastry plopped onto her bottom on the desk and crossed her arms, waiting for a response.

There was no point in holding it back, so you gave in, “Okay, yeah, I’m… I’m kind of… In love… Just.... a lot…”

Carla claps, “Good, because Bonnie said the same about you~ As well as a few ~other~ things.”

You opened the drawer and fished out two sugar packets, shaking them like a bag of pet food for an animal. The robot couldn’t resist, taking them and devouring them in seconds flat. After enjoying her bribe, she spoke up. “I heard that when Daddy’s in tomorrow night, She’s going to ask for his and Mama’s blessing to pursue dating you, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

The rest of that morning had been a blur, even getting home was only a vague memory. You pull yourself out of bed and stagger to the bathroom. You look like hell, but you’ll get over it. Before the end of your shift tonight, you might have a girlfriend after all.

\---

 

You could barely keep your feet on the ground when you stepped out of your car that evening. You straightened out your uniform, fussing with it a little too much. You were finally going to meet Daddy, and you really did want to give him your best first impressions. But fumbling over your outfit was sort of pointless, since you would be switching into your dance attire as soon as you got inside and could duck into your office to change anyways. Carla was polite enough to not watch you, and, ever since you started working here, changing clothes with other people around seemed to bother you less.

You knock on the door and you’re greeted by a rather cheery looking Gary. On his head is perched a ridiculous little paper party hat. “Hey kid! There’s some pizza and drinks out if ya want a lil something before ya gotta get in yer tights and be subjected to Chica’s bootcamp. We’re celebratin!” You shuffle inside and the little man closes the door. He speeds ahead of you, light on his feet, but also a little wobbly. From the smell on his breath, you could tell he had been celebrating quite bit already. “MIKE’S HERE!” He announces loudly. You here a couple cheers from the girls.

Gary parks himself by the bar, which is spread with snacks and pizza and some punch. You take a slice of pepperoni. You hadn’t eaten all day, so it was a welcome surprise. As you enjoy your meal, you take a seat by the other human. “Is this party all for Bonnie?” You ask him. It was going to be her first time on stage, so a party would be logical, but could the robots even eat all this food? Well, you’d seen one eat sugar like a fiendish addict, so, probably?

He replies, “Yeah, as well as somethin else. Daddy’s side company got the big distribution deal he’d been tryin to get since before this place even opened.”

You give him a curious look. “Distributing what?”

“Imports from Europe. A nationwide grocery chain picked him up for some of his stuff. It means big money,” He nudges you, “Well, ha, more than the guy’s already loaded with. As his best friend, I’m real happy for ‘im,” He takes a swig from the glass of punch nearest to him that isn’t empty. “Mama’s even happier. Well, also it’s Friday so that’s a given.”

“Why’s that?”

Gary snickers and whispers to you, “It’s the only time Mama and Daddy get to spend some personal ‘alone time’ together. We don’t just call them those names for nothin.” He laughs a little to himself. “Ya know, I’ve known him since we were in high school, and no matter what, he could never get himself a date. He couldn’t get a girl he really loved until he made one himself.” You laugh a little too, more to be polite than from humor.

You suddenly hear a voice coming towards you, saying your name. “Mike! Mike!” And then her arms are around you as she hugs your back. You feel the bunny nuzzle your shoulder lovingly. “Mike, I did it, I finished my costume for tonight! D-do you wanna see it…?” You turn and face her. She’s dressed in one of her usual dresses, and you know that isn’t the outfit she’s been working on. You nod and finish the last bite of your pizza as you hop off the stool. She quickly takes your hand and pulls you along to the costuming department. Her hand is so soft, and despite being a robot, probably much stronger than yourself, her grip is so delicate and gentle. She’s too much for you. You really don’t deserve her.

She swings the door open, then closes it behind you once you’re inside. The place is littered with little scraps of fabric and pieces of thread. Probably some pins too. She faces you, looking like she’s going to burst from excitement. “Okay, turn around and cover your eyes! I have to get in it~” You do as she tells you. It takes her a few minutes to change, and you hear the sounds of zippers and fabric shuffling as she changes. This probably isn’t the best time to get lost in your imagination. After a couple minutes, she speaks up. “O-okay you can turn around!”

The bunny is draped in a velvet cloak. It was that same fabric she’d shown you when you first came into the department. The hooded garment is long and drags on the floor. Before you can say anything, with a swoosh of her arms, she lets it fall to the ground. Underneath is sort of witch-like dress, with a bustier and long billowy sleeves. She looks at you expectantly.

“It looks amazing.” You say very sincerely. It really is stunning, and in so little time.

“That’s not all~” she says. There’s a playful, lusty edge to her voice, making a tingle run up your body. She starts to unlace the bodice, slowly, with quick little tugs. Oh wow, you’re going to see more of the costume than you were expecting. Once that’s off, she grabs the front of her dress and starts to hike it up, in rhythm to the music in her head, offering peeks of her wide thighs and stockinged legs. She drops the fabric, then rips the whole thing off, thanks to it being a break-away garment. Underneath is a corset and miniskirt. You… You might need to sit down for this. You fumble for a chair and sit. She continues dancing a little and then turns her back to you. She takes a hold of the small skirt and bends over, inching it down her thick hips and revealing the rather revealing g-string underneath, she wiggles her little tail as she steps out of the skirt and gets to work unstrapping the corset, with her back still to you, she lets it fall to the floor, then puts her arms over her chest before turning to face you again. She dances and keeps her arms up in a teasing manner. You can hear her humming the song to herself, and when it reaches the finale, the robot pulls her arms away, revealing two black X-shaped pastes censoring her. She strikes a pose, just like Chica taught her.

You clap a bit too enthusiastically and lean forward, trying to hide what your body was up to down below. She breaks her pose and puts her hands to her mouth, “A-ah! You really like it??” She comes over to you. “I… I was really nervous, but since you like it… I f-feel a lot better…” The animatronic puts a hand on your shoulder.

“They’re gonna love you Bonnie, I know I do,” You say to her. It’s only after the instant it comes out of your mouth that you realize what exactly you said. You feel your face heat up. She caught it though, you could tell from her own blush.

“M-mike… I… I… “ She fidgets, “I… Love you too,” She sits down on your lap, straddling you, still clad in the least amount of clothing to be considered clothing. She doesn’t seem surprised or upset when you place your hands on her hips and initiate the first kiss. The bunny just closes her large eyes and melts into it. Another kiss leads into another, and another. A week’s worth of building lust was finally starting to reach boiling point. The question was, how far was it going to go?

\---

 

Your activities are sorely interrupted by a snicker from the doorway. Chica poses against the doorframe, dressed in her dance outfit and grinning her toothy, but beaked, smile. “Y’know, you two are late fer class.~” She teases. The both of you freeze up and Bonnie quickly hops off your lap and gathers her clothes off the floor. Your body laments her leaving you, but it’ll just have to deal with it.

“You’re lucky Mama’s busy with Daddy right now considerin that ‘no fraternizing’ rule she laid down.” You could feel the sarcasm dripping in the chicken’s voice, and you knew, for a fact, that she hadn’t considered following the rule at all after the night Mama called that meeting. She was smarter about her timing though, and had been the most punctual of the girls since.

You get up and start to change, since there’s no way you’ll have time to seek the privacy of your office. Chica watches like a hawk. Bonnie takes a quick glance at a very opportune moment and squeaks a little before very quickly averting her eyes. You slip into the tights and all as quick as possible. Bonnie gets back into her full costume and shuffles out the door. The birdbot gives her a slap on the behind to move her along a little faster. You follow, stumbling to get your shoe on right. You receive a playful butt smack too, but you could swear you felt more of a grab and squeeze.

You do some stretches and the class begins, abet a little later than usual. After doing some drilling, Chica motions you to sit aside, and for Bonnie to come forward to do her final dress rehearsal. Looking up, on the second floor, above the one-way mirror of your office, is a little sound and lighting booth. Foxy is seated at the controls. She gives a thumbs up and the music begins. It sounds very Halloweeny, fitting for her costume. The bunbot does her act, flawlessly. While it’s great with music, you had to admit you liked it much better when it ended with those thick thighs on either side of your lap. She looks to you as soon as she finishes. You smile and clap for her and she blushes. She probably liked it better on top of you too.

Chica looks exceptionally proud of her student. “Fantastic Bonnie! Yer a real natural! I bet Mama and Daddy are gonna be so impressed when they see ya tonight!” She puts an arm around the purple animatronic’s shoulders, then noogies her with her other hand, eliciting a little giggle from her sisterbot. “Now Mikey, I don’t wanna be rude, but it’s gonna take a little more practice to catch up to her. But I think you could become a pretty stunnin stud in the boylesque world eventually~” That’s good enough for you. She chuckles, “At least you can be backup in case onea us gets tied up and can’t make it on stage.”

The training continues after that, and, by the end, you’re a bucket of sweat. You slip into the bathroom off the main dressing room. You’re not sure if the girls use it. You’re not sure if they need to? But it is clean, and not dusty, and you see them go into it every so often. Huh, maybe that’s something you can ask the owner when you see him. Well, maybe not the FIRST thing you ask him of course. That would be weird. You take a towel and wet it with cold water, then press it to your face. It feels nice. You clean up your sweat and get back into your security uniform. Maybe you’ll grab another slice of pizza before settling down in your office for a while. As you dress, you hear the main door into the dressing room open and two girls enter while talking, caught in mid-conversation. It’s Foxy and Chica. You’ve gotten so used to eavesdropping via camera, that you can’t resist. You press an ear to the bathroom door and listen.

“Did you see them? They’re back again, waiting outside with the customers.” The fox states.

“Ugh, when are they gonna give it up? It’s in the past. The dealin’ is done and they gotta move on.” You hear a bump, probably Chica scooting into her vanity station. “If it was me I woulda taken ‘em all out instead of bein’ merciful like Mama did.”

“I can understand why she did it. There would be no way she would know for certain if she got them all, even with all she knows.” You hear Foxy take a seat too. “And they can be an asset when they behave.”

“Yeah well, I wouldn’t trust em as far as I could throw em. Ya start trustin too much, you’ll end up like you know who.”

Foxy quickly cuts into Chica’s word train before she can say more. “Mike is probably back in his office by now. Let us talk about something more appropriate.”

Chica doesn’t miss a beat, “So did ya see the special pie Juan’s workin on? He put deep fried twinkie slices an bacon on it! Who would do somethin like that? Humans are goddamn crazy sometimes. I’m gettin real tied of this bacon craze, ya know Cap’n? Like, alright ya like cured pig slices, get in fuckin line! Who doesn’t? Ya ain’t special cause ya like bacon!” The conversation continues like this.

While you’d love to continue to listen in from the bathroom, you could do plenty of that when you got to your station. Thankfully, the bathroom is a Jack and Jill style, with another door leading out into the main backstage. You escape quickly, the sounds of Chica ranting about ‘artisan’ cured meats echoing through the dark.

\---

 

You mull over what was said in the dressing room as you go down the hall and get to the security office. Who were ‘they’? You had a feeling you already knew. And you think you might know who the ‘her’ was too. You felt pretty smart, piecing together the clues like a real sleuth. Maybe with Daddy’s identity, you can start getting all the mysteries unraveled.

When you enter the room, Carla’s sitting on the desk, idly scanning the cameras in your absence. She perks up when she hears you come in, the little flame on her candle lighting up. “Hi Mike! That was quite a performance from Bonnie, huh?”

You set your bag of clothes on the floor, thinking about the version of that dance you had gotten first. “Yeah, really something.” You say, trailing off.

“Miiike, you know better than anyone that the costuming department has a camera~” Clearly, she wasn’t talking about the act that had gone on on the stage. She winks and you flush. She had probably seen everything. But she doesn’t mention it any further, instead deciding to alert you to anything strange she had spotted in your absence.

“We had a breach this morning after you left, but it was just the Mayor. He had forgotten his watch. Chica was heartbroken when he took it back. She said she was gonna pawn it. Around noon, something fell from the fly gallery onto the stage, but it turned out to just be some old set pieces. However they ended up there, it looked like they’d been ripped up by some strong force. Foxy and Chica denied any involvement, but their story seemed preeeeetty suspicious. They said they were on the roof, but everyone knows how much Foxy hates sunlight. Other than that, everythings been super secure!” She gives a little salute. You awkwardly salute her back. She grins, having gotten you to play along so easily.

 

You take a seat and start to go though the cameras yourself. Opening was soon, and, as the animatronics backstage had mentioned, customers were already lined up, according to the camera mounted in the lobby that pointed out the front doors. Through the glass doors you could see there were more than usual for sure. Maybe it was because it was a Friday night? Or maybe someone had put out the word about Bonnie’s premier? You had seen her name was added to the marquee as you had come in.

You look over the people outside, and sure enough, you spot the man’s greasy, peppered hair. It was the man in the suit from Tuesday night, as well as a herd of other suits around him. According to Gary, he owned another pizzeria and was nothing to worry about, but something still made you weary to trust the doorman’s word on that. Maybe Carla knew something.

“Carla, do you know who those guys are? There, in the suits.” You ask her, trying to sound casual. You noticed in the shifts you had spent with her, the more interested you sounded, the more cagy her answers tended to be.

She stares at the monitor for a moment, then talks without looking back at you. “Renaldo Barone, owner of Barone’s Pizza on the other side of town.” Her eyes thin. “Keep an eye on him, Mike. He’s got a history here… He… uh… keeps trying to steal the recipe of our sauce.” Her lie is adorably obvious. “The head chef and him hate each other, but Mama has a good relationship with him, don’t worry!” She gives a pleading look, as if hoping you had bought everything she said.

You say, “Okay,” And let it sit. The information bubbles away in your head. Renaldo… Wasn’t that the guy that last had your job? No… No that was Randolfo… And… He always wore suits to work… You think you might have something, but you’ll see where it goes when you know a little more.

Pretty soon, the doors are opened and the crowd stumbles in, most of them already fortified before even tripping over themselves and to the bar. Barone and his gang seem to be the soberest of the lot. They make their way to a far booth and take a seat. You lean out of your chair and press your head to the mirror. They’re just out of your range to watch them. You skim the cameras. Sure enough, they’re seated in the perfect blind spot. There’s no way that was an accident.

Your snooping is delayed by the curtain rising, and the music coming to life. Mama walks onto the stage, her rhinestone covered mic clenched in her powerful grip. She introduces herself and the two staple dancers, who pose perfectly on cue, dressed in some new lavender colored cocktail dresses. The audience claps, and Mama brings the mic close to her painted lips.

“And tonight, for the first time on stage, give a warm welcome to our newest addition, Bonnie Bonbon!” The crowd goes wild as the bunny walks onto the stage, her dress matching those on her sisters. She looks very nervous, but the cheers seem to be building up her confidence. She poses with the other two while Mama looks on with the utmost amount of pride. You can’t help but feel proud too, though you really have no idea how much you helped her get onto those boards.

They all sing their signature naughty pizza song. Bonnie fumbles a line, but the other three play it off wonderfully, as if it was planned. Truly, masters of their craft. By the end, Bonnie is all smiles, and really is whipping the customers into a frenzy of hollars and whistles. They really did like her, just like you knew they would. You lean back in your seat as they bow, and leave the stage. You close your eyes, images of that robot bunny’s happy face dancing in your mind.

Carla clears her throat, a twinge of worry in her voice. “Mike… I think you should take a look at the cameras...”

\---

 

You snap out of your bunny-induced haze and surrender your attention to the robot cupcake. She looks shaken. You peer at the feed she has up on the screen. ‘CAM 5’ is displayed in the corner, but the picture is just a snowy flurry of electronic static. She turns to you, her eyes wide. “Someone cut the feed,” She mumbles.

You ask her to go through all the cameras, and, sure enough, they have all been reduced to static. You hope it’s just a mechanical failure, but… You press your head against the mirror again and try to spy on the group in the corner. You think you can make out people still sitting there, but it’s hazy. You’ll have to go patrol it. You pat Carla on the head, trying to reassure her. “It’s probably just a loose wire, I’ll go take a look.” She tries to smile and nod for you, but her expression is still uncomfortably ridden with worry. You get up from the desk and head out the door and down the hall, toward the backstage.

Something seems off, but you can’t quite place it. Your stomach flops a little, but you hold it together. Your knuckles crack as you grip harder at the large metal flashlight in your hand. Suddenly something shifts in the darkness. The beam of your light quickly tries to catch it, but it moves too fast. When you feel it grab you, rather than stand up and be the big lug you are, you scream like a little girl and drop your maglight with a loud clatter onto the cement floor.

You scramble to pick up your light and shine it on your attacker. Foxy looks unamused. Then again, she rarely does. “Mike,” She says flatly, taking her hand and hook off of your person.

“T-the, the cameras are out,” You say, attempting to regain some of your composure.

“Hn,” She replies. Typical. She continues, “Have you seen Bonnie?”

 

A little bit of fear grips you again, “N-no, why?”

 

Like an angry, feathered Kool-Aid man, Chica bursts from the dressing room door beside you and Foxy.

“MIKEY, HAVE YOU SEEN THAT GODDAMN ASSRABBIT?” She pants, seeming furious.

Before you can respond, the vixen answers for you. “He says he hasn’t seen her. The cameras are out.”

“AAAUUGH we get THIS FAR WITH HER, and RIGHT BEFORE SHE’S GONNA SOLO ON STAGE, SHE FUCKIN CHICKENS OUT. She’s prolly hiding in the store room again but FUCK I AIN’T GOT TIME TO PULL HER OUT.” The busty chicken grabs your wrist and drags you into the dressing room. “Remember what I said about ya bein an understudy, well GUESS WHAT.”

She takes you to a rack of clothes and starts unceremoniously pulling off the ones on your body, much to your embarrassment. “We’ve got 5 minutes before showtime. I’ll find ya a costume and, ya remember your routine, right? The robot one? Just do that.” She snaps her head toward her fellow dancer. “Cap’n, go load up the music and lighting. I didn’t think we were gonna have to do this, but, the show’s gotta go on.” The pirate nods and rushes off.

She rips off your boxer briefs and doesn’t even pause to gawk at your junk. You’re a little wounded by this, but she’s too focused to care at the moment. Chica then begins to feverishly dress you, putting you in several layers to strip off. As she cinches you into a corset, you’re still reeling and trying to make heads or tails of your situation. “Ahh-ah w-why don’t one of you cover…??” You plead.

“Listen Mikey, there’s some real shit goin down right now, and we’ve gotta be other places. Just give us a good act and a lil time to sort some things out, okay? Okay. Good!” She gives a tight pull and you feel the air get forced out of your lungs.

Once she’s done, you only have a few seconds to spare. You glimpse your form in a mirror before the pushy poultry drags you out of the dressing room and into the wings of the stage. Damn, you looked great in a corset.

Over the speakers you hear a voice chime in. The accent sounds familiar, but the voice is rich and masculine. Whoever it is states smoothly, “And now, presenting a surprise guest in his first performance on stage. Give a round of applause to our special boylesque star, MAGIC MIKE!”

The music begins and the bird shoves you on stage, giving you a thumbs up before rushing away to attend to whatever she had to go do. The lights are bright, and your legs are shivering. There sure are a LOT of people out there.

Well, here goes nothing.

\---

 

The butterflies your stomach don’t have too much room to flop around in your corseted gut. The lights feel hot, due to the layers of your costume. You gulp. This is for Bonnie. If she’s somehow watching you, you have to do it for her.

The music pounds over the audio system, reciting the lyrics you had been trained to.

BUY IT USE IT BREAK IT FIX IT TRASH IT CHANGE IT MAIL UPGRADE IT

You pose in your elaborate, but cheesy robot costume, moving robotically to the beat of Daft Punk’s hit song. Your mind starts to overcome the fear of performing, and you get into it. Remembering the moves that Chica taught you. You spread your legs and thrust your pelvis as you slowly detach the fake robot pinchers on your hands, then move to the tubes over your arms. You try your best to toss them off stage, since you know no one is going to be there to pick them up after you.

You weren’t sure how the crowd was going to receive someone who wasn’t a robot, nor a female, but their reaction seems good. They’re laughing and hooting, especially a large and very drunk group of bachelorettes seated to the left of the stage. You decide to ham it up by them as you pry off the mid-section of your foam chassis. You bend over for them as you pull off the tubes on your legs and shake your robot bottom. They scream in delight. Heh, you can really see how someone could get used to enjoying this. You rip the blocky silver butt piece off and throw it to the girls, exposing your firm, metallic speedo’d ass.

TOUCH IT BRING IT PAY IT WATCH IT TURN IT LEAVE IT START FORMAT IT

 

You get the rest of the robot parts off, save for the mascot-like head, then start unclipping the corset. It falls to a glittery heap on the stage, and you kick it away. The audience laughs as you, in a bra, garterbelt, tight european underpants, stockings, boots, and a robot head, are left exposed.

TECHNOLOGIC TECHNOLOGIC

You slip your thumbs to the sides of your underwear and start to tease it down your hairy and muscled thighs. Underneath, was a g-string. Chica had worked wonders shoving your goods into that little thing. The toupee tape was gonna hurt when you had to rip it all off though. You hadn’t exactly shaved for the occasion after all.

You pull off your bra quickly cover your chest, then as the song winds down, you give em the big reveal, throwing your arms in the air and exposing your bolt-shaped pasties. Those were also going to be hell to pull off of your hairy chest.

The stage lights go out and the room erupts. Probably half of the noise was from those women alone. Now that the lights weren’t blazing in your eyes, you could make out more the of crowd as you picked up your things.

Renaldo’s group was gone.

Your nerves catch up with you, the fear for Bonnie, and the sudden rush of being nearly naked in front of strangers wadded up in your insides. You sprint to the bathroom off the dressing room and proceed to deposit your dinner in several unrefined retches.

You wipe at your mouth and groan.

“Good work.”

You quickly crane your head toward the door to the backstage. It’s a man you have never seen before. You panic for a moment, fearing it’s someone who’s going to whack you. But, he’s dressed casually. So it’s not one of the suits, thank god. You flush the toilet and he extends a hand, helping you wobble to your feet.

He is tall and lank, dressed in a nice, but informal Hawaiian shirt, shorts, and sandals. A thick pair of glasses sits on his long nose on his long face. You were going to guess who he was, but, as you realized you both weren’t alone, you didn’t need to. Mama looms beside him. She looks upset, but not toward you.

This hadn’t exactly been the circumstances you had wanted to meet him in.

“D-daddy…?”

\---

 

The man nods. “It’s probably best if you get dressed, we’ve, uh, got a lot to talk about.” His voice has a slight mid-western accent to it. It sounds very collected and calm though, even regardless of the tension in the air. The guy sounds like he’d be able to speak clearly and casually, even with death beating down his door.

Only one thing is on your mind. “Did you find Bonnie?” You ask. You prayed she had just gotten stage fright, but you were fearing for the worst. Their reactions aren’t very reassuring as they stay quiet for a moment before speaking.

“Michael,” Mama says, her voice sounding on the verge of tears.

Daddy interrupts her. “Mike, just get changed and come to Mama’s room. We’ll tell you everything there.” He leads her out, and you see her sob into her paw before disappearing into the darkness. If you had any more contents in your stomach, you’d have probably gone for another round with the porcelain bowl from sheer nerves alone.

You dress quickly. Whatever had happened was bad news. As you yank your pants on, you hear that smooth, deep voice over the speakers.

“Due to technical difficulties, Fredrica’s will be closing early tonight. Please take a free pizza voucher on the way out as an apology for this turn of events.”

You leave the dressing room to quickly take a peak into the house as you button up your shirt.

You see everyone shuffling out, grumbling. Near the lobby doors is Chica with a basket of coupons, handing them out to each of the patrons. A drunk fellow grabs one of her ample chicken breasts, and she decks him. Foxy quickly comes out of one of the employees only doors, the access to the lighting and sound booth to be specific, and hoists the man off the floor and out to the sidewalk, where she drops him with meaty thud.

It hits you suddenly that you don’t see any sign of Gary.

You get your shoes back on and quickly make it to Mama’s room. Luckily, you found your flashlight on one of the vanities in the dressing room, making your trip to her den a little easier. You pause for a moment. The door labeled ‘PRIVATE’, the one Gary had been so quick to lock before you could get a peek in a few nights prior, was now wide open. Deep scuffs that looked fresh were on the floor, and continued from the mysterious room, to the nearest exit to the alley way. You’re far too concerned about what the hell’s going on to snoop any further. Your legs glide you to Mama’s room.

Cautiously, you come into the light. Daddy and Mama are sitting, waiting for you, as well as the two cupcake sisters, Carla and Carol. You gasp a little. In the dark you hadn’t noticed, but Mama is not looking good. Deep gashes are visible in her fur, giving views of her metal endoskeleton beneath on her arms and shoulders. One of her ears appears to have been ripped off. she was wrapped in a dressing gown, looking severely shaken.

“Please, take a seat,” Daddy says, gesturing with one hand toward a chair. His other arm is preoccupied, wrapped around Fredrica’s waist comfortingly. He adjusts his rectangular glasses and sets his eyes on you. “...T-there’s some things we didn’t tell you when you signed up…”

\---

You had never seen Mama in such a state. Even her expression was one totally unlike hers. Whatever had attacked her… You were frankly terrified to imagine what it was. “Who… Who did this…?”

The shebear speaks, her voice trying to steady itself, but a small quiver remains in it. “Like a ghost. Back from the dead.”

Carla speaks up, “Mike…,” She sighs, “I lied. That guy… Renaldo. He wasn’t after our sauce recipe.” You weren’t surprised, but you try to look like it for the mini-bot’s sake.

Daddy clears his throat and Carla stops, “Let me be the one to come clean,” He says. “I’ve made a lot of poor career choices in my time,” He looks exasperated, trying to find the right place to start. “I didn’t always have money. In fact, I was a lot like you. It… It all started when I was in college, I was poor and needed to take any job I could to stay alive. I… I took a night watch job at a little pizza place in San Jose. Freddy’s… Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. I thought it was a prank at the time but… Late at night the robots would move and… Someone had programmed them wrong. They thought anyone in the building after midnight was to be… eliminated. It was a terrifying experience, but I couldn’t quit. With each night I became more and more fascinated by them, while sometimes barely making it out by the skin of my teeth. Eventually, I changed my major to robotics, just so I could learn enough to defend myself better. I… Well, I became obsessed. I got up the courage to finally reprogram the robots myself, and, they fired me for tampering. But I saw those poor shells as something that could be more. Those bundles of wires and metal crossbeams, they deserved to be more. But I was a poor kid with no hopes of getting a loan or anything of that nature… I had been friends with Gary for a long time and, when he heard my plight, his family took me in. They didn’t operate on the most legal of terms, but it was money, and lots of it. With his help, and our inspiration, we created robotic life, and we created this place.” He gestures appropriately.

“But… Things changed. About 3 years ago, Gary’s father passed away. The ‘business’ was without a leader. Renaldo, Gary’s brother, was put in charge. He didn’t like… Anything we did. He thought robots were cold, unfeeling, trying to replace humans. He cut our ‘funding’. So, we took what we had left, and became his competition. The old man had made his millions off of food imports from Europe, so we did just that. We got a decent amount of money, but with our national distribution deal, and… Randolfo, it was only a matter of time before he retaliated again to try to flex his power…”

“Randolfo..?” you ask, “The last guy with my job…?”

Daddy confirms with a nod. “Renaldo’s deadbeat of a son. We gave him the job with the hope it would bring his father around, but… it ended very badly.” He quickly tacks on a little more information, “But that was justified. What his goons did last year was… It’s a bit too much like what happened tonight.” He searches his mind, looking for another good spot to begin. “We had another dancer, Fredrica’s sister. Her name was Goldilocks. She… She was very sweet. She wanted to believe there was good in everyone… We had made a big deal with an olive oil farm in Italy, but, it was one that had worked with the old family for over 100 years. Rey didn’t like us stepping on his toes and… Goldie disappeared. A week later…. One of her arms showed up in the mail… Ripped off. I tried to bargain with him, but more parts started showing up. Eventually I gave up the deal with the farm, just to have her back. He sent me a check instead, for what he had had her appraised for in… scrap metal…”

You stop him right there, “Then WHY would you let him back in here?!”

“Gary. Gary always said after that incident that he would keep his brother in check, and, aside from his son, Gary was true to his word. He’s my best friend after all. And it’s not like we could throw the most powerful man in town out … Now… I don’t even know where Gary is. But… Now we know what happened to her…”

“Goldie?”

“Yes… We saw her… Tonight. Mama fought through his men, but… She couldn’t fight her off. They’ve reprogrammed her. She looks like a reanimated corpse of her former beauty… She took Bonnie.”

You clench your fists. “Then why are we sitting around here??” You get to your feet. “I might not be the smartest guy, but… Do you want Bonnie to become a mafia zombie too?? We have to save her! Someone has to take that guy out once and for all!”

“And that’s exactly what we’re gonna do!” You turn to the door and there’s Chica, grinning with a large rifle in her arms, standing in the doorway. Foxy is beside her, brandishing a sword in her good hand. Mama stands up as well. Though damaged, it’s only cosmetic. The sadness in her eyes has been replaced with anger. Daddy smiles, almost devilishly. “We tried playing nice with him, but now, we just wanted to make sure the whole family was on board with a new plan of action.”


	6. Chapter 6

Daddy leads the way as your rag-tag family heads out of Mama’s dressing room and into the darkness of the backstage. Even before he set a destination, you had a feeling you knew exactly where everyone was headed. The tall man pauses at the deep ruts in the floor leading from the room for only a moment, then moves on inside. 

Deftly, he hits a switch on the wall, lighting up the large room. A series of huge work tables sat at the center, robotics equipment lined the walls. Spare endoskeleton pieces hung from hooks from the ceiling, as well as quite a few high-powered lamps. Of all the rooms in the building, this was most certainly the brightest. Several tall cabinets, labeled with the robot’s names, lined the back wall, and next to them were some… Odd devices, like showers or something. Maybe charging stations? Whatever they were, one of them had been obviously removed, leaving a trail of gashes and scuffs on the wood floor. The Owner did not look pleased at all. 

He moved over to an unlabeled file cabinet. It looked like it had been through a tornado, the drawers twisted and forced open, leaving dents and scraped enamel on the poor piece of office furniture. You could see his shoulders droop as he peered inside the empty shell. 

“He took all the plans.” He said, “Every last one of them, that rat bastard.”

“But I thought he had no interest in us?” Foxy said. While her voice was flat, there was a little more emotion in it than usual. It sounded like genuine worry.

“Well, obviously he’s changed his tune…. This is worse than I expected.” Daddy pulled his shoulders up, and, with a little more hurry in his step, unlocks a door in the far corner. He turns his head back to you. “Have you ever used a gun, son?”

You nod nervously, hands shaking. “Y-yyeah… I used to go uh… Deer hunting… with my Grandpa…”

He grinned a little. You assumed he was pleased you had already killed things with a firearm before. He throws the door open and steps back. “Mama, you help gather provisions. I’ll pull the truck around.”

The damaged but determined shebear gives him a nod and proceeds forward, Carol, who was on her shoulder, holds on tight. Fredrica’s wide hips nearly get caught in the narrow doorway. She begins to descend, down a flight of stairs and into the depths of the theatre’s basement. The girls follow closely. Carla, who was hitching a ride on your own shoulder, rests against your neck for stability. You can feel a slight tremble coming from the minibot.

“Carla, are you okay?” You ask her softly, turning your head to her and bringing up a hand, setting it against her as you walk. 

“I’m just worried… And also afraid of the dark…” She nuzzles her head against your hand for comfort. 

“Why don’t you turn on your candle? It would make it a little less dark,” You say to her reassuringly. She smiles at this idea and does so, the orange LED becoming very bright. You pat her head and move your hand away to grip at the metal rails of the darkened staircase. “Bonnie will be just fine,” You say, though admittedly, it was more for yourself than Carla.

With the help of cupcake-candlelight and your maglight, you safely make it down the stairs. The smell hits you hard. It’s musty, but bleachy. The acrid quality burns your nostrils. You figure you’ll breath from your nose from now on. The robot girls fearlessly press on, the glow of their eyes the only light aside from your own. The expansive room is actually quite cluttered, with boxes and barrels stacked on shelving units. You follow along, down and asle. You briefly flash your light at the walls of shelves beside you, expecting the worst. Pickled peppers. Jars and jars and jars of them, all their labels in Italian. You give a sigh of relief, and keep your beam set ahead. 

The robots ahead of you stop, their collective heads in a large metal cabinet. “Michael,” Mama calls to you in her kindly voice. You hurry up and she fills your arms with various weapons. Pistols, bullets, something that looks like a bomb. You nearly flinch, but then quickly surmise that dropping the deadly pile would probably be far more harmful than letting it rest cradled in your arms. 

“Why… Why do you even have all these things??” You ask.

Mama speaks as she straps a gunbelt around her thigh. “They are actually Renaldo’s. He made Gary store them here for him, then, when tensions grew high between them, he never came and picked them up. It would only be kind and thoughtful of us to finally return them to him…” 

Once everyone was loaded up with an assortment of probably very illegal weapons, you and your family head back upstairs and to one of the back doors. A small white moving van sits in the alleyway, Daddy’s form seated at the wheel. The girls get to work loading their goodies into the back. He leans out the window, eyes set on you. 

“Would you like to ride shotgun with me?” He asks.

You glance at Chica, as she hops into the back trailer and starts to pull down the door. “A-actually, I.. I’d like to ride with others in back.”

The Hawaiian-shirted man gives you a sly, teasing expression. “If I didn’t have to drive this thing, I’d be back there too.” You exchange nods and run to the back before Chica shuts you out. 

The chicken grins. “Decided to come back and join the party, eh? Get yer ass in here!” She suddenly grabs you and pulls you inside effortlessly, setting you on her soft lap. She whispers in your ear as you feel the engine come to life. “Things are gonna get a lil bumpy, Mikey, so hold on tight~”

\---

The truck rumbles along the darkened streets of the city. You’re still seated in Chica’s lap. It’s more out of practicality than pleasure, since the trailer of the vehicle lacks seatbelts. Between her arms around you and your bottom firmly wedged between her shapely thighs, you weren’t going anywhere. 

You glance down at the watch on your wrist. You had once had a really nice one, a present from an ex girlfriend. Really, it had been the only good thing to come out of that relationship. When you had to pawn it and replace it with a walmart special, you weren’t too sad to see it go. According to your thrifty replacement, It was about 2 am. 

The general feeling is tense all around. Mama is sitting in the corner, her eyes closed, probably in intense thought, while Carol rests on the expansive shelf of the shebear’s ample bosom. Foxy is shining her hook idly, and casts her glance at you when she sees you watching.

“Anything particular on your mind…?” She asks

The hum of the road is all that can be heard while you try to form the words. Finally you get it out. “I don’t want to have to kill someone tonight…”

She nods in agreement, “Aye, I would rather not myself, but we have to protect the family.” She turns her neck awkwardly toward one of the many duffle bags full of weapons and fishes around. You flinch when she suddenly pitches something from inside directly at your head. You luckily catch it. 

“A stun gun?” You smile a little, “That seems a little better on my conscious, thanks.”

You feel the yellow arms around you snuggle tighter, Chica’s hefty chicken tits nearly knocking you from her lap, “Awww Mikey! You’re such a sweetheart! Not wantin ta kill people! It’s a good thing some of us here already have training in that regard.” She shoots a look at Foxy, who returns one infused with annoyance. 

“Chica,” She says in her firm voice. There’s quite a sharp edge to it. 

“Oh come on Cap’n. We might as well come clean to the guy, given that we’re trusting him in this kinda situation already.”

You’re a mix of both curiosity and a little bit of fear. But you know these girls well enough. You already know they have some dark pasts, even if they’re robots. People and machines can change, right?

Foxy sighs, dropping the rag she was using to clean her prosthetic. “Back then, our programming was not nearly as advanced as it is now. To be honest, we had no way of knowing any better… Daddy saved countless lives when he saved us from that… place. I still remember the screams… My worn and half-skeletal form running down that hall, grabbing poor men and… Blood was everywhere… But I was just following orders. That was what my programming said was the right thing to do… And… And the bite…” She closes her eyes, making the sound of inhaling through her nose. “Foxy the Pirate… I was Foxy the Pirate… I AM Foxy the Pirate. Regardless of upgrades, I’m still that monster. Daddy wanted to delete those memories, but I begged him to let me keep them. I begged him to keep me what I was, at least in part. I didn’t want to forget. Forgetting would be like saying those deaths and injuries were okay.” She opens her eyes again, the centers of her golden irises glowing like pinpoints of light in the dim trailer. “I am in agreeance with Mr. Schmidt. I would rather not kill anyone tonight.” She places the rag back in the bag beside her, “But if it comes down to Bonnie’s well-being, I WILL make an exception.”

You nod in agreement. Your feelings on the matter are mutual. While it would be heavy for you to have to end a stranger’s life, You’re not sure what you would be capable of if that bunny was in danger. For now, you’ll settle on the taser.

Suddenly, Ms. Fazbear herself speaks. “Michael…” She says softly, “I do apologize for getting you caught up in Daddy and I’s side affairs. It was never my intention to put you into something dangerous like this. If you don’t feel up to going through with it, I have no reason to reprimand you. You are only hired as a security guard after all, no strings.” 

You clench your fists. The more you think about the whole thing, the more your fear starts to wash away. Here you were, sitting in truck full of guns and robot pizza strippers, and… for the first time in a very long time.. You felt protected. You felt like you were part of something, among people that you mattered to. And right now, one of those people were in trouble. The one you loved the most was trouble! 

“No,” You respond to Mama, firm in your tone. “No. I’m part of this family. We all are. My own family abandoned me. All of you, and especially Bonnie, you’re all I have left. You believed in me enough to let me become part of the Fazbear Family. I need to do my part and make sure all of you are secure.” 

You’re happy to see the shebear give that warm gentle smile again. It makes everything almost seem normal. Her damage is still very startling though. Anyone who would hurt her was more than deserving of punishment. Your stomach twisted when you finally realized in full that right that moment, the same could be happening to Bonnie… If not worse. She was so sensitive and gentle and fragile… They were probably doing the unspeakable to that poor robot. 

Your sadness and nerves get converted directly to anger. You feel your adrenaline kick in. When the van finally comes to a halt, the rage is burning you up. You’ll do anything to get her back safe in your arms. You’ll do anything for Mama.

You’ll do anything for your family.

\---

Foxy pushes the rolling door of the van up and jumps out, her feet landing on the wet, cracked pavement. She lifts up a foot and scoffs with annoyance at her already dirty footpads. Chica exits next, and puts an arm around her.

“Hey, I’m not much of a fan of the outdoors either,” She says, gesturing to everything, “It ain’t no place for the likes of us. Hell, I get chills just hearing the rain on the roof of the theatre. Fuckin’ nature.” She does a mock shiver, but the vixen gives no indication of emotion aside from a quick little side-hug. She then moves forward, obviously toward their target.

 

You climb out of the vehicle, bags of weapons slung over your shoulders. A thought crosses your mind. You’re just going to pray they’re all unloaded. You look around and get your bearings, but have to take a moment to shake off disbelief. Of course it was a beat up wearhouse by the docks. Where else would an Italian mob gang do their nasty pizza business? You’d have laughed if it wasn’t for you being so focused on your mission. However, you still have to ask.

“...Is this really the place?”

The slam of the truck’s driver door makes you turn your head. Daddy stows the keys in his pocket and replies to your question. “Of course it is? Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Isn’t it kind of… Obvious for this kinda… Thing?” You stutter out.

The tall man cocks his head, processing what you could possibly be implying for a split second, before cracking a weird little smile. “Mike, Barone’s Pizza is THEMED to look like a gangster hide out. They do a little mystery murder dinner thing, really for the wine-drinker-over-40 crowd. They hire magicians and actors for all their things. It’s far too stuffy in my opinion for what it is.” He crosses his arms.

“Their pizza’s pretty damn shitty too. Blandest sauce ever.” Chica adds.

“Oh,” You say, then speak up again,”But… They really ARE gangsters too?”

Everyone nods.

“In a gangster themed pizzeria?”

They nod again. Looking more closely, you can see that the look of the place is totally on purpose. What looked like rusted corrugated metal, upon closer inspection was just paint. There was also huge neon letters on the roof spelling out BARONE’S. You had to admit, the guy had some hefty balls to do something like this so obviously right under everyone’s nose.

“It’s the perfect cover,” Carla says, now seated on your head, due to your shoulders being occupied.

Mama steps out of the van and quietly rolls the door back down. She’s loaded head to toe with weapons. She dusts off her dress, a silky black number, floor length with split sides for her large hips and added mobility. Carol is perched on her head where her top hat usually sits, looking just as ready to get down to business. Fredrica was quite literally dressed to kill. “I believe it is time for our grand entrance, ladies and gentlemen.~” She says in her usual warm hostess voice. 

“Wait,” You say, “Do we have any kind of plan?”

“I was just gonna start pumpin motherfuckers fulla lead,” Chica admits shamelessly.

“Of course,” A small voice chimes in. It was Carol. In fact, this was the first time you had ever really heard her talk. Her voice was less shrill than her sister’s, but still high-pitched. “I have mapped out the lay and schematics of the entire building. There are two guards located at each main entrance. They are armed and also actors-”

“So it’s totally okay ta kill em!”

Carol shoots Chica a dirty look, then continues. “However, the door off the kitchen is unmanned. There is an alarm on the door, as well as several cameras. The power source for both is on the roof. Foxy, I will send you the location right now.” The cupcake looks at the vixen, and her candle light flashes in an odd pattern. Foxy’s eyes flash back in response, then she straightens up into a salute.

“Aye,” She growls, then immediately starts to scale the large building with little effort. Carol goes back to her technical talk.

“I pinged Bonnie’s internal wireless adaptor, but got no response. She must be powered off, or her signal is being blocked. However… I fear we will not be the only robots in this encounter.”

You don’t like the sound of that, “How many more are there?”

The purple iced cupcake doesn’t hesitate to reply, “Six and a half that I can detect.”

Daddy speaks up, “What about Gary? Is he alright?”

“Several Barone family members are within. I cannot tell from this range if one of them is him. But I do hope one is.”

Foxy slides down a rain pipe by her hook. While it looks really damn cool, it probably makes more noise than she had intended. When she reaches the ground, she hushes her voice. “You didn’t tell me there was a guard up there,” She growls, “But I knocked him out, and cut the security power, as you requested.” 

Carol gets a smug look, “He was not there when I sent you the coordinates. Perhaps that should be a lesson to keep your scanner up to date in real time rather than jumping into this head first, Captain~.” 

It was obvious the fox was not a fan of getting sass from a cupcake, but she holds her tongue and nods in agreement. “We should all do that. These people aren’t normal.”

“Aaaactorsss…” Chica hums as she locks a clip onto her rifle. She had apparently tied a handkerchief around her head ala Rambo while Carol had been talking.  
Mama’s right hand pastry sets her eyes on her sister. “Carla, I am trusting you with my plan. While subject to change in drastic measures, it is very sound. Do NOT go against the plan unless absolutely necessary.”

Carla nods, “Of course of course! I wouldn’t dream of it! That’s why they put you in charge of the plans and not me, after that one time.” Their lights blink at one another and after a few seconds Carla says, “Got it!”

“I know,” Her sister say sardonically.

After a few more minutes, Carol had explained and acted out her entire plan. They group was to split in two. You were teamed up with Foxy, Carla and Daddy, while the other consisted of Mama, Chica, and Carol. Your team was to head into the basement, which was the nerve center of the building. There you were to shut off their entire power supply and find out if that was were Bonnie was being kept. The cupcake was “83.5343% certain” that was where she was. Meanwhile Team Mama was to head upstairs to Renaldo’s office and apprehend him. She had ran multiple plans while in the van, and this one had the highest success calculation at 96.9521%. That was good enough for you as anything.

The whole family approaches the kitchen door, now ready for entry. Carol opens her mouth to speak, but Foxy merely steps forward and turns the handle. “It’s unlocked.” She says flatly, throwing her golden but very icy stare at the violet confectionbot. 

You take a deep breath as you make your way over the threshold and into the darkened kitchen. Your hand feels and grips at the stun gun in your pocket. With a little luck, you wouldn’t have to use it, but you had a feeling it wasn’t going to be that kind of a night.

\---

You would have never guessed robots could be so stealthy, what with all their noisy gears and servos cracking about inside of them, but surprisingly, Mama and the girls’ movements are muted, only a dull buzz escaping their joints as they walk further into enemy territory. You let them lead the way, since they're not only stronger than you, but also have the ability to see in the dark, unlike yourself. You would have flicked on the metal flashlight hanging from your belt to assist your own meager sight, but you feel its beam would be way too bright to use while illegally breaking and entering.

The kitchen is quite large, probably double what you had seen of the one back at the Theatre. Granted, the head cook never liked you snooping around in there anyways and getting in the way. The appliances glisten in the faint light, showing how modern and top of the line they are, also unlike those of your employer. Mama reaches the windowed double doors and peeks out. She nods, giving the signal for everyone to get in their groups. You join Foxy and Daddy, with Carla on your shoulder. Mama’s party leaves the cover of the dark kitchen first, creeping into the dining room, then slipping into another employees only door, lead on dutifully by the directions of Carol. Daddy looks at Carla.

“So, where do we go from here?” He whispers to her.

“Basement access is across the entire building, mostly the dining room, but it’s way out in the open! There’s probably people over there, or… Or maybe a trap! We need to move more stealthily.” She scans the room, then her candle lights up. “Ahah! Perfect!” She says in a hush, pointing to a large ventilation grate attached to the wall. The cupcake jumps off your shoulder and onto a counter, then a trash can, then to the floor. Using her tiny but strong hands, she simply pries the little screws out of the grate. Catching on, Daddy bends down and helps her, mostly to make sure it doesn’t clatter to the ground and make a whole bunch of noise. Once her little mits get it off the wall, he sets it aside, revealing a very large metal shaft. stretching into the depths of the building. She immediately walks into it.

Foxy is the first to shrug and follow along, probably enjoying the obvious deviation from Carol’s studious planning. Daddy hops right in after her. You swallow thickly, and get to your knees, crawling into the aluminum tunnel. Before leaving the kitchen behind, you reach back and pull the grate back into place, at least so it can look a tiny bit less suspicious.

The train of interlopers does their best to keep down the sound of their knees and hands slapping into the resonant surface of the tube, but it’s far harder than it seems. Carla keeps leading the way. The tunnel branches off in a maze of dead-ends and other corridors. Anyone without some kind of robotic mapping would easily get lost. As you crawl past a long black off-shoot of the vent, you swear you hear something thump in its depths. It was probably just your imagination.

Up ahead, there is a hub of sorts, a meeting of several vent shafts, leaving room enough to spread out little and take a break. In the center, there is a large grate, facing downward. Light pours up into the dark of the metal tunnel, prompting the entire party to gather around and peer down onto the scene taking place below.

It appears to be a workshop, not unlike that of Daddy’s. However, it’s massive, and at least ten men mill about below, dressed in lab gear. The one directly below is pouring over some large blueprints and schematic charts. You squint, making out a very familiar, pear-shaped figure drawn in white. They’re Bonnie’s blueprints! Another man comes up to him and speaks, his thick gloves are dripping with what appears to be oil.

“She shouldn’t be a problem now,” He says sternly. You gut wrenches and your eyes widen.

The man at the table quickly spits back at him. “You had better not have damaged anymore property, Walterson. The boss hasn’t forgiven you for your last… mis-calculations.”

“No! Of course not! I just hadta take care of her legs alittle, make sure sure couldn’t keep tryin to run away! Believe me, I can fix’em in like 5 minutes iffn I needed to. Good thing she’s in that soundproof room. She was screamin like CRAZY. It’s not like she felt it or nothin. But I can tell ya somethin she did feel~” Thankfully, the other man promptly punches him hard in the gut, causing the tubby Walterson to double-over onto the ground with a wheeze. Once he catches a little breath he groans, “C-c’mon doc I was jus… j-jokin with ya…”

The square-jawed man at the table turns his attention back to the papers. “I’d rather you not make such crass jokes. This isn’t some… Pervert pizzeria. We’re dealing with LIFE here, you bumbling idiot. These plans… They’re like nothing I’ve ever seen before. This is VERY IMPORTANT, possibly the most important innovations in robotics since the birth of artificial intelligence.” He slams his fists very suddenly on the table. “And YOU are TAMPERING WITHOUT PERMISSION. GO IN THERE AND FIX HER LEGS. If she kicks you to death, it would be for the betterment of science anyways. Studying the force of your brain splatters on the walls would be far more useful to me than what you have done so far.” The fat little toady of a man wobbles to his feet. Before he can make another snide remark, the Doctor shoots him a deathly gaze, making him retreat quickly from the direction he came. You watch him closely. That was where she was. If she didn’t kill him, you certainly would try your level best to attempt to bring yourself to grievously harm him.

The animatronic beside you suddenly gives a hard bump, enough to make you cover your mouth before you can cry out. Carla scolds, keeping her eyes focused on the vent, “Chica, don’t bump into Mike like that,” She whispers. A second ticks by, and all of you come to the collective realization that Chica had not come with you. Before you can register, a slick, yellow, plastic arm is around your throat and dragging you closer to the grate. An unfamiliar voice yells, sounding shriller and shriller as it echos.

“PLAY TIME’S OVER KIDS”. The slim chicken bot suddenly slams her elbow into the grate, breaking it loose easily and sending you plummeting out of the hole. You grab onto the ledge, your body dangling several more feet from the ground than you are comfortable with. Foxy tries to jump and roll on the enemy robot, but finds herself unable to get a good grip on her hard, slippery plastic casing.

The last thing you see before you go falling is her golden fist pounding your fingers loose and her horrible, saccharine, beakless grin.

\---  
The only feeling you can register is intense pain as the darkness starts to blur into blinding light. Your legs and arms throb and burn. You attempt to move them, but they’re held fast by some kind of restraint. Your vision begins to adjust and refocus, and you are able to start to make out the shapes of people around you. At least, as far as you can figure, you weren't dead.

Seated directly across from you, is a terrible, loud Hawaiian print shirt. Daddy looks irritated, but when he notices you are conscious again, his gaunt features soften. His arms are behind his back, obviously cuffed. “Hey, you’re awake,” He states, a little lightness in his voice despite the situation. 

“The kid’s finally up? That’s good at least,” Another husky voice says. You know who it is in an instant.

“G-gary..?” You manage to ask, “You’re o-okay?”

He leans from the wall, also cuffed, “I’m better off than you, kid.”

You try to shift your body, and the pain shot through your nerves like fire. You don’t remember hitting the ground, but from a fall of that distance, it only made sense that you would be pretty damaged. What was even with that crazed robot…? Robots… 

“Where’s Foxy and Carla?” The worry in your tone is obvious.

“No idea now. They were caught too. There’s more than just that Toy Chica. They’ve got a whole crew of them.” Daddy answered.

“Toy Chica…?” You cock your head, which even that is painful to some extent.

The Owner’s eyes look off for a moment, “They were kind of a holy grail for me actually… Super rare models from the late 80’s. Only a couple of stores ever had them, and even then, they were plagued with problems. The tech in them was damn near scifi for their time, with a rudimentary kind of wifi system, as well as facial recognition. They were only in service for 6 months or so. They had issues with their durability and scanning functions. I always dreamed I’d find a complete set of them and add them to the family, but.. It looks like someone was one step ahead of me.”

“But, why are they here? Didn’t Renaldo have no interest in robots?”

Gary answers for you. “That’s what we thought… Really, up until a year ago, that was true, but then when he took Goldie… I don’t know, he said she ‘inspired’ something within him. Now he’s sinking money into robotics research, and workin with some huge corporation from Japan or somethin. He tried to learn everything off of taking poor Goldie apart and putting her back together, but some things still didn’t make sense to him. So the Japanese sent some engineers and he tried to get me to sell you out, Aaron,” He looked sadly at Daddy. “I guess I… Kinda messed up. It took him putting a gun to my face… I should have just..”

The tall man stops him, “I know you would have never done it unless he did something shady like that. It’s okay.” He smiles despite everything, “You’re my best friend after all.”

 

You look around trying to assess the room for any possible escape routes. Concrete floors and walls, pipes line the tall ceiling, as well as another large vent shaft. That would probably not be the best of ideas considering what you had already been through. The door on the wall is large, thick, and made of metal. You sigh and flop back against the walls of the corner you’re in.

“I just hope everyone’s okay,” Regardless of how it happened, you feel guilty about getting everyone caught. And from what that creep of a scientist said about Bonnie… Your thoughts are suddenly sidetracked by a loud clanging from above. It was in the vents. You wince, hoping it isn’t that yellow monster come back to finish the job.

Whatever is clattering about, it doesn’t sound like it’s moving all that stealthily or coordinated. The three of you watch with curiosity and fear as the vent cover above begins to rattle, a loud static interference filling the room as whatever is lurking behind the grate puts forth more effort to dismantle it. With a crash and squeal of metal on metal, the covering falls to the floor, luckily missing everyone in the room beneath. A few tense moments pass, then something sticks its head out and looks down.

It’s Foxy? No, it’s similar, but not her. The white head of the robot is rather beaten up looking, scuffed and cracked in places. Her long white and pink snout is lined with pointed teeth, and at the end is a faded, but very obvious pair of red kissy lips. One of her gold eyes is missing, but the one that remains is locked on yourself and the other prisoners. 

The robot’s jaw opens, hinges squeaking, as her rusted voice box attempts to fire up. The voice that comes out sounds just as rough the shape her head is in. “Aa-aron?” She studders, static making up about half of the sound. “A-aron, the Aaron? R-r-obotics master?”

The man in question nods quickly, probably just excited to see they have another rare robot. “Yes! That’s me! And you, you’re a Toy Foxy! Wow, you’re the rarest of the bunch too. Number one in durability issues and ‘pinches’ on the customers.” His fanboyish love of pizza robots was quite obvious.

Before the Toy responds, she slithers out of the shaft. The condition of her body was worse than anyone could have assumed, nothing more than a tangle of endoskeletal tubes and wires, hands, feet, and… Another, costumeless, endoskeleton head. It was amazing she was functional at all. Expertly, she scurries out of the metal tunnel and perches, hanging upside down off the vent. She hangs down low, the snout of her good head just a foot above the Hawaiian shirted man. “W-well… I’ll b-be…,” she says, getting a closer look. Even in the flurry of white noise, you can detect a little southern twang to her words. “G-goldie used to t-te-tell me all ab-ab-about you before her r-rrre-reprogrammin… S-sa-said you could put j-just about anyth-tht-thin back together…” 

“You bet yer sweet lil’ lips he can!” Gary chimes in. You’ve seen him do this before, laying on the charms thicker than his hair grease, no doubt in hopes of her granting you guys freedom. “I’ll tell ya, I’ve seen this man take in some real shabby cases and make them just SHINE.” The robot sways a little side to side, shutting her eyelids closed and drinking up every word. 

“T-the boys down here… Tt-they gave up on me… S-said I was good for s-sp-pare parts.... and nothing else..” She looks directly at Aaron with that gold eye. “I-I’d do w-whatever it takes to pay you b-b-ack…”

“I’ll offer you a deal, Miss.” Daddy says, “Help us get out of here and save our friends, and you can come with us. I’ll fix you up better than you ever were, you’ll never fall apart and you can be on stage again. This offer isn’t just for you, but all the other robots around here too. I’m not sure what Renaldo has planned for you all, but it’s no doubt bad business.”

“I-i-I know the p-p-plans… You-you’re right, they’re a-awful… He… He already did it to G-g-goldie, poor sw-weet Goldie…” She suddenly detaches from the vent, her heavy, mangled metal ‘body’ landing on the floor. She pulls herself over in an awkward crawl and starts to work off Daddy’s handcuffs. “T-tt-they, -the others… They don’t know… Your friends are in h-hheaps a trouble…” Her nimble hands make short work of the restraints. Aaron gives a nice stretch, then helps the robot free you and Gary. 

She pauses when she comes to you, looking you over. A flash of green blinks from her eye as she, you assume, scans you. “Michael Schmidt…. Your B-b-bonnie has been lo-looking for you… She-lloves you a wh---hole lot…. Y-you’re all s-she talks about…”

You blush, and the broken animatronic does her best to create the warm expression of a smile, “I-i k-know how it is… h-h--hhaving a lo-love…..” Both her heads nod, with determination, “I’ll m-ma-make sure that you’re r-reunited.”

Even with all the pain you’re feeling, her words are encouraging enough to dull them.


End file.
